


Always and Never

by supersleepygoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cheating, Death, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Injury, Multi, Smut, Unrequited Love, Violence, feelings of inferiority, insecure reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersleepygoat/pseuds/supersleepygoat
Summary: You and your best friend/hunting partner run into the Winchesters after a case. You have been harboring a secret crush on Sam for years. Your plans to tell him how you feel are thwarted by the two people you love most.





	1. Chapter 1

“Y/N/N, please?” Your hunting partner begs. “One more night? We took care of the ghost in record time, we deserve a break!” The perky blonde reasons with you. 

“Kerry, I-” but you are cut off by your best friend. 

“No!” she refuses to listen to your excuses. “We’re going out. We’re finding some really hot guys. And, we’re getting you laid!”

You laugh at your friend’s not-so-subtle interest in your love life. Every time you two go out, she says it’s her mission to find you a man for the night. Luckily, it usually doesn’t take long for her to forget about her goal.  She gets distracted by all of the potential suitors that inevitably fall at her feet when she goes out.

She is a pretty girl, gorgeous even. So, she doesn’t understand. She thinks your lack of a sex life is because you’re too up tight or shy. In reality, guys just don’t fawn over you like they do her. She never has a shortage of options. Meanwhile, the guys at the bars usually don’t even notice you exist when you’re sitting next to such a shining star.  

Anyone next to Kerry pales in comparison. 

You’re not going to lie. Sometimes it does eat away at your confidence. But on the whole, it doesn’t bother you. You’ve always hated being the center of attention. And, Kerry takes that pressure off of you. You’re a good team.  

“I guess one night off isn’t going to stop the world from turning,” you relent and Kerry bounces with excitement. 

Anyone who knows you two assumes you are the older one. You are more level headed and reserved. Meanwhile, Kerry is outgoing and usually a little too buoyant for these small towns to handle. But you love her. She’s your best friend and you trust her with your life. Your contrasting personalities work well together during hunts. But, they can sometimes clash when it’s time to decide what to do during down time. You usually want to stay back at the motel and read. But Kerry usually convinces you to abandon your imaginary world and live in the now. And nine times out of ten, you’re usually grateful she is so insistent. 

The bar she chose is just like every other one across the country. Its familiarity is oddly comforting. But before you can take in your surroundings too much, Kerry is pulling you toward the bar. 

“Two shots of Jack, please!” Kerry coos to the bartender. 

“One shot. And I’ll just have a bottle of water,” you correct the order. 

“You are such a buzzkill! Why do you never get drunk with me?” Kerry whines. 

You simply shrug your shoulders. You don’t know why you never told her, or anyone, but you can’t drink. You’ve been dealing with a heart defect since birth. The medication you take to control it becomes toxic if mixed with alcohol. As a hunter, there are certain precautions you must take to accommodate your disease. You monitor your heart rate before and after each hunt. You became an expert shooter so you wouldn’t have to expend as much energy fighting or running. And, you avoid hunter’s helper. It was tough at first. But now, you have everything under control. Even the people closest to you don’t know that you are sick. 

It didn’t take long after you ordered your drinks for the show to start. Two men come strolling over to lean in beside Kerry. After a display of shameful flirting, from both parties, the men ask her dance. She agrees. Naturally, you turn back to your water. You pretend to inspect it with great interest in hopes that Kerry forgets you are there and doesn’t make you go with her. As usual, your efforts are in vain. 

“Come on Y/N/N!” Kerry said pulling on your sleeve and motioning toward the other people dancing. You look back at the two men who are staring at each other with hesitation and worry. You figure they were having a silent battle. Who would be stuck occupying you for the night? And, who would get the true prize? 

You decided to put them out of their misery. “Not right now, Kerry. Maybe I’ll come out later,” the men’s smiles grow a little too wide at your words and that hurts more than you thought it would. 

Kerry frowns and is about to protest when you offer her a playful wink and shoo her off. She is whisked away and begins to show off just how effortlessly she can move her hips. 

You turn back to you glass and a few minutes later, someone comes up behind you. You can feel them before you see them. You smile because you know exactly who it is. 

“Imagine my surprise when we stroll into town looking to dust a spook and find out that it’s already been taken care of. You trying to put us outta business, sweetheart?” the familiar voice coos behind you. You drop your glass and turn quickly to wrap your arms around Dean’s neck. 

“I knew I sensed the unmistakable Winchester presence sneaking up behind me!” You hum into Dean’s shoulder. Sam is standing just behind Dean. His smile almost makes you lose your footing. You offer Sam a shy smile in return. 

Dean sits in the empty stool next to you and Sam sits beside his brother. 

“How’s it going, kid?” Dean asks.

“Not dead yet. How about you?”

Dean laughs. He nods a ‘thanks’ to the bartender when she drops of their drinks. “Same old, same old.”

“Is there ever a ‘same old same old’ with you two?” you ask with a scoff. 

The three of you move to a booth at the back of the bar. It is a little more private, so you can fill them in on the case without anyone overhearing. You told them the not-so-exciting conclusion. They looked a little annoyed. They tell you they haven’t had a case in weeks and were itching to get a little action. 

“Ugh, what duds!” Kerry exclaims as she crawls into the booth next to you. She looks up and sees the Winchesters sitting across from you. You can almost see the drool about fall out of her mouth. When you throw a napkin at her, she swats your arm lightly. 

“Kerry, this is Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean, this is Kerry,” you introduce everyone once you realize she may have forgotten how to use her own words. 

Kerry turns to you. “How the hell do you know these guys? Where have you been hiding them?” She is intentionally speaking loud enough for everyone at the table to hear her. She elicits a laugh from both brothers. 

“We keep to ourselves for the most part, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. 

“Buy us a drink?” She asks either brother, not really caring who answers. 

“Sure thing,” Dean says before they both stride over to the bar to order the next round. 

You laugh at how obvious they both are. But, then you realize you are now left alone with Sam and your laughter stops. 

“How have you been, really?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. He could always see through you. He never lets you get away with superficial answers. 

“I’m fine, Sam. I’m just glad you guys are here. You always make things a little brighter. I’ve missed you – both of you,” you correct yourself before he thinks you were only talking about him. 

“We’ve missed you too,” the warmth of his smile makes you feel boneless. “I’ve been meaning to call for a while now, but…” Sam trails off. His eyes wander to the bar where his brother and Kerry are laughing hysterically over something. 

“It’s okay. I should have called too.” You pick up where he left off. Sam reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the scene at the bar and looks back over at you. You take a deep breath and steel your nerves for what you’re about to do. “Look, Sam the last time we talked we both-”

“Who is she?” Sam asks interrupting you. 

You follow his gaze which is once again drawn to the bar. “Oh, Kerry is my hunting partner. Don’t worry she’s awesome. We’ve been best friends for years. You probably remember me talking about her a few times. After all these years, I guess this is the first time we’re all in the same city. I’m glad you guys can finally meet her!” you smile. “You can trust her, don’t worry,” you add after noticing Sam’s furrowed brows of curiosity. 

“That’s not-” Sam shakes his head and looks over at you again. “I’m sorry. Go on, what were you saying?” 

You need to take another breath. You internally remind yourself that you can do this. You promised yourself you’d take the plunge the next time you saw him. “The last time we talked, we both said we could use a little vacation from hunting. And I was thinking, that maybe – I mean, only if you wanted to, we could – we could possibly take that vacation toge-” but before you can finish, you realize Sam is only half listening to you. He has returned his gaze to the bar, to Kerry. Suddenly, he springs out of his seat. Sam strides over to where Kerry is pushing one of her previous dancing mates away from her. He had tried pulling her back onto the dance floor but she was having none of it. 

Sam grabs the man’s shoulder and pulls him away. One forceful punch was all it took to shatter the guy’s nose and send him falling back. 

“You okay?” Sam asks as he touches Kerry’s shoulder gently.

She looks up at him and laughs. “The feminist in me, wants to tell you to fuck off and that I could have handled that myself.” Sam pulls away thinking he overstepped. “But…” Kerry continues with a sly smile, “the cavewoman in me, finds that macho protective bullshit really hot.” Kerry moves in closer so she is pressed up against Sam’s chest. 

He lets out a shy laugh and runs his fingers through his hair. “How about a drink first?”  

“No way! You two, out!” The bartender shouts at Sam and Kerry. She is unwilling to have such disruptive people in her bar.

“He grabbed her first!” Sam tries to reason but the bartender is hell bent on kicking out everyone involved. 

Kerry just laughs and pulls Sam out of the bar. Meanwhile, you are still sitting in your spot at the booth. You are frozen in shock over how fast everything happened. The minute hand on your watch barely moved an itch before Sam was gone.

You look over and notice Dean exiting the washroom. His carefree smile fades when he sees the bloodied man still putting pressure on his nose. You rush over to him, before he goes on a rampage looking for Sam. You tell him what happened and you both exit the bar in search for the other two hunters. 

“Sammy, I thought I taught you that hitting people is wrong!” Dean chastises his little brother with a joking tone. 

“Dude, you hit people all the time! Besides, I was defending the lady’s honor,” Sam explains himself while giving Kerry a wicked smirk, one you have never seen before. 

Kerry pushes his shoulder and rolls her eyes. “What honour?” she jokes. She then turns on her heel and starts walking toward the motel you are staying at that is only a couple blocks away. 

Sam watches her walk away. Her hips sway with a kind of confidence that you have never known. 

You come up to stand beside him but he cannot take his eyes off her. A pit is forming in your stomach. 

“Wow,” is all he can say. 

You cast your eyes to the ground. It is a vain attempt to avoid seeing what is about to happen. The thought of having to watch Sam fall under her allure is too painful to bear. 

You should have known. Sam is perfect. She is perfect. You were just naïve enough to think that you and Sam had something special and he wouldn’t be drawn to her like everyone else. You’re now realizing it may have been the delusional part of your brain that let you believe what you felt for Sam was mutual. 

You thought it would have been Dean who went after Kerry. You look over at Dean. He seems more interested in his phone than the girl with hair that even shines under streetlights. 

“You think I’ve got a shot?” Sam’s question pulls your focus back to him. 

“What? A shot?” You ask with nothing but pure dread in your voice. 

“She’s something else. I don’t know what it is but even before she-” 

Kerry turns around and shouts down the street. She is nearly a block away, while the three of you have yet to leave the parking lot. “Are you coming, or what?” 

Before you can reply, Sam jogs down the street to catch up to his new friend. She hooks her arm around his and they begin walking in unison. 

It was all too sudden for you to process properly. Kerry is always forward with guys. But, you have never seen Sam this bewitched by a girl after such a short time. It’s uncharacteristic for him to fall in with someone so quickly. It’s rare for the shier Winchester to run off with someone who may as well be a stranger to him. 

Dean moves in closer to you and nudges your shoulder with his own. “Sam is one of the smartest people I know. He is also one of the most clueless. I’m sorry, kid.”

You stare at Dean with fear in your eyes. Does he know? 

“I have eyes, sweetheart. You’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not know how bad you got it for my little brother. And apparently, Sammy is all of the above. Three for three.” 

“Please don’t-” you can’t finish your plea but the desperation in your voice is clear. There’s no point in denying it. Dean has always been able to tell when you were lying. 

“He won’t hear it from me. But, he should hear it from you. Give him a chance. He may surprise you.” 

You look up at your retreating friends. They have yet to look back and check to see if you are even following them. “I was going to – I mean, he said he wanted to go on a vacation. And, I was going to ask him if he – it’s stupid, never mind.” You stop yourself because you know how pathetic the words will sound out loud now. 

“Is that why you called me last month to ask if Sammy has ever mentioned a place he’s always wanted to go? That’s so cute!” Dean laughs teasingly at you. 

“I just thought…” you trail off hoping Dean won’t make you explain yourself. You realize now that the idea of romantic getaway with Sam will be nothing more than a pipe dream. You should have known it was never going to happen. Your only saving grace was that you were interrupted before you had the chance to ask him. You don’t think you could handle his rejection. You don’t want things to become awkward between you. Above all else, he is your friend. You need him in your life, even if it will never be to the full extent you wish. 

“Come on,” Dean nudges you forward. His tone is sad now and that only solidifies your belief that he also thinks it is a lost cause. “I’m guessing you guys are staying at Motel 6 too?”

You nod your reply. You and Dean must have hung back to talk for longer than you thought. Kerry and Sam are out of sight by the time you reach the motel parking lot. You say goodnight to Dean and head back to your room.

When you open the door, Kerry’s small frame is straddling Sam’s lap he sits on the edge of her bed.

“Oh shit! Sorry, Y/N! I forgot to do the sock thing! I was a little distracted,” Kerry admits as she wipes her bottom lip with her thumb. She gets off Sam’s lap and scurries up to where you stand frozen at the door. She leans in to whisper to you, “Do you mind crashing with Dean for the night?”

You look over Kerry’s shoulder to where Sam is shifting uncomfortably on the bed. He is running his hands through his hair to straighten out his disheveled look. 

Words fail you. All you can do is nod. 

“Awesome! Here I’ll grab your toothbrush, wait here!” she says before skipping off to the washroom. The silence that envelops between you and Sam in her absence is deafening. 

You have so much you want to say. You want to beg him not to do this. You want scream from the tightening in your chest. But, all you can do is bite your lip to keep it from quivering. The words never come. He’s made his choice. 

Against his better judgment, Sam risks a glance up at you. You are looking everywhere in the room, except at him. If he didn’t know better, he would say there an undeniable pain in your eyes. 

Kerry comes running out of the washroom after what feels like an eternity. She hands you your things. You know that is your cue to leave. But you can’t. You don’t want to. The idea of what will happen in your absence makes your stomach churn. You swallow thickly and offer them a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. The sound of the door locking behind you, makes you flinch. 

You reach Dean’s motel room but you can’t knock. You move back to lean against Baby and just breathe in the night’s air. 

“I figured I’d find you here,” Dean’s voice startles you. He moves in beside you and offers you a shoulder to lean on. “When Sam wasn’t in our room… well, I figured it would be a matter of time before you came knocking.”

“You still think I should tell him how I feel?” you ask with a sad laugh.

“I do. But, now I know you won’t.”

“I really missed my chance, huh? If I ever had one to begin with,” you say with a forced shrug.

“Maybe it’s just sex. One and done. In the morning, they could realize they’re better off friends.” You lean your head on Dean’s shoulder. You appreciate his feeble attempt at making you feel better.

“He was smitten and you know it,” you breathe out.

Dean’s silence is response enough. He instead changes his tactic. “Do you want us to leave town? I’ll drag him across the country and we’ll be gone first thing in the morning. You two ladies can go back to kicking ass. Meanwhile, me and Baby will put as much distance between those two fools as possible.”

You giggle at the dramatic lengths Dean is willing to go to make you feel better. “Why couldn’t I have fallen for you? You’re always so nice to me,” you say as Dean wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

“You and I both know we would probably kill each other by the second date,” Dean laughs as he tickles your side. 

You push him away and swat his shoulder. “Screw that! You’d be dead half way through the first date if you keep that up!”

Dean smiles and pulls you in closer again. His strong embrace reminds you of a protective big brother who believes he can shield you from your heartache by sheer force of will. And, as you breathe him in, you almost believe it to be possible. 

“Come on, kid. Let’s get inside. Something tells me we have an interesting day ahead of us tomorrow. And, we’re going to need our rest.”

* * *

 

To say you slept at all last night would be a lie. But it’s a lie you told Dean to quell his worrying. You just thank whoever is listening that the two rooms do not share a wall. It was bad enough knowing what was happening. But to hear it too, may have actually killed you. 

You and Dean go to a nearby diner for breakfast. Thirty minutes later, Sam and Kerry show up hand in hand. So much for a one night deal. 

Kerry whisks you away to the women’s washroom. You dread what she will have to say. She is always very vivid in her descriptions of her conquests.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you!” She beams as she applies chapstick to her swollen lips. 

“Then don’t tell me,” you say only as a half joke. 

“We didn’t even have sex,” Kerry says with amazement in her voice. A thin veil of hope blossoms within you. “I mean, we did other things,” she winks at you. “But mostly we just talked. And, it was surprisingly okay! I mean it was more than okay. Y/N he’s so… perfect.” You have never heard her talk this way about any guy. 

“Yeah, I know,” you cannot help yourself from agreeing with her. 

“I can actually see me falling for this one. I mean he’s smart, funny, kind. I found myself telling him things that I’ve only ever confided in you before. He just pulled the truth out of me with those freaking puppy dog eyes,” Kerry continues.  

You nod. You know all too well the effect of Sam’s comforting gaze. 

“But he’s not all talk. I’m mean those hands… wow! He may have only given me a taste. But, if what’s to come is half as good as what he gave me last night, then I will be a very happy girl for a very long time,” she all but sings his praises. 

All night you dreaded the fact that they were probably going at it like bunnies. But, now you realize that this is much worse. She’s falling for him. You’re not surprised, but it hurts all the same. 

Now, you have to back down. She’s your best friend. Even if it kills you, and it damn near will, you can’t get in her way of happiness. You have been swallowing your crush for years. Maybe this is the push you need to keep it down once and for all. 

When you return to the table, Dean offers you a sad smile. That tells you that Sam had told him similar sentiments while you were gone. 

“Sam tells me, he invited you two to come back to the bunker with us,” Dean says mostly looking at you to gage your reaction. 

“Oh yeah we’re so in!” Kerry answers for you. 

“Oh, um I don’t know. Kansas is a little out of the way. Maybe we shouldn’t,” you start to say but Sam cuts you off.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to Y/N. It’s no big deal. We can drive Kerry back with us. That way, you can go do what you need to do.” You know he only said it to be considerate. He has no malice intentions. But it still feels like a knife to gut when it seems as though he is utterly indifferent to whether you tag along or not. You have once again fallen into Kerry’s shadow. You just never expected it would be Sam who put you there. 

Dean kicks his brother’s shin under the table. 

“Dude! What the hell was that for?” Sam exclaims in pain. Dean gives his brother a look you don’t understand. But, it seems as though Sam gets the message because he looks back at you with apologetic eyes. 

“Don’t be silly! Of course, she’s coming!” Kerry once again answers for you. 

You seem to be out of options.

* * *

 

“Does she know?” Dean asks you during your long drive back to Kansas. You opted to ride with Dean while Sam and Kerry took her car. You didn’t want to be stuck in a confined space with the new lovers for nearly nine hours.

“She’s knows there’s a guy I’m completely hung up on. But, she doesn’t know it’s Sam. If she knew, she wouldn’t be doing this,” you reply.  

“So, tell her!” is Dean’s easy solution. 

“I can’t. She’s falling for him.” 

“So? You fell first. She’s got to respect the dibs.”

“It’s different now…. he’s falling back. They’re happy, Dean. I love them both. I can’t mess that up. Besides, even if I went for it, he still wouldn’t choose me. He never would have. Especially, now that he’s got her… it would never be me.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The bunker is huge. And yet, you have never felt more confined. It is hard to breathe. It seems like every room you walk into Sam and Kerry are damn near mounting each other on the nearest flat surface. Even when they’re not in the room, their giggling echoes through the halls. On the rare occasion they can keep their hands to themselves, you still feel your throat closing as the walls cave in around you.  

You stick it out for almost two weeks, which is longer than you expected. But last night, you hit your breaking point.

“He’s such a nice guy and totally gorgeous! Why won’t you give him a shot?” Kerry asks as you both sit in the kitchen sipping on your tea. She is trying to convince you to let her set you up. She ran into an old friend at the grocery store yesterday. Apparently, he’s  _ perfect  _ for you. That thought alone makes you scoff. She says he is awkward and has a few issues, which automatically made her think of you. 

“If he’s so wonderful, why don’t you date him?” you ask your friend while you refuse to meet her gaze. 

“Have you not been paying attention? I’m with Sam!” she says it as if it is a simple and undeniable fact.

Your mouth goes dry at her admission. “I- I didn’t know you two were together…  _ together _ . I didn’t know it was officially a thing,” you tell the painful truth. 

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. But, I locked that shit down,” she says with a giggle. 

You feel a bout of nausea overtake you. You let an awkward silence hang in the air because you can’t think of anything to say. Congratulating her would sound too forced. And, your initial reaction to cover your ears and hum like a petulant child would be too obvious. 

Soon, the Winchesters’ strong presence enters the kitchen and distracts you both. Dean offers you a soft smile as he pulls up a chair next to you. 

“I was just telling Y/N about that guy we met at the store yesterday. You remember?” Kerry asks Sam as he moves in to sit next to her. He loops an arm around her shoulders as if it is the most natural gesture in the world. Kerry leans into his touch and you have to stop yourself from recoiling. “Don’t you think he’d be perfect for her?” she continues. 

Sam’s face scrunches with confusion. “Him? I don’t know. I don’t really see it,” Sam offers his input.

“Are you blind? He’s totally her type: tall, dark hair, soft eyes, probably has a huge-”

“Alright!” you interrupt your friend before she overshares. You also stop her before anyone realizes that your ‘type’ describes Sam to a T.

Sam laughs. “I still don’t see it. Are you even interested in that kind of stuff, Y/N?” Sam asks you. “I guess I never pictured you as the ‘dating’ type,” he continues as he steals a sip of Kerry’s tea.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you can’t help but be a little offended. Why does everyone always assume you’re not ‘date’ material.

“Nothing!” Sam tries to backpedal. “It’s just, you’re so focused on hunting. It never occurred to me that you would be into any romantic or sexy stuff. I guess, I never thought of you that way. I’m sorry if I was wrong,” Sam continues to speak his mind. He’s not saying it to be mean, you know that. But, every word cuts through you all the same.

It was bad enough knowing you missed your chance with him. But to find out you never had a chance to begin with, tears you apart. He has now confirmed that your feelings for him are just as one sided as you always feared they would be. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop your eyes from watering over. 

Dean puts his hand on your knee for comfort. He knows how much Sam’s words no doubt hurt you. He also knows that if he tells Sam to shut up, he’ll risk exposing your secret. So instead, he opts to be your silent supporter.

You carry on the rest of the night through gritted teeth. You will yourself not show how much Sam’s comments broke you. You seemed to have fooled the other two but you can tell by the way Dean is watching you, he can see right through you. 

The next morning, you pack a bag and tell Dean you’re going out for a few days. You don’t tell him that you’re going out for a hunt. He would only want to tag along and you need some time alone. You need to kick some ass and let off some steam. 

The hunt was nothing you couldn’t handle. In fact, you were a little disappointed at how easily the ghoul went down. Despite the fact the bastard got in one good bite before you lopped off his head, the hunt was over before it started. Not the satisfying challenge you were hoping for. 

The bite on your shoulder was throbbing. It is a short drive back to the bunker and the wound is in such an awkward position that you can’t stitch it up yourself. It hurts but it isn’t fatal. One of the other three capable hunters can fix you up and you’ll be good as new. 

You get back to the bunker and stumble into the library. Sam is in there reading alone. 

“Can you do me a tiny favour?” you ask startling Sam who was too engrossed in his book to notice your arrival. You walk over to Dean’s liquor stash and steal his bottle of whiskey. You know it’s risky to drink while you’re on your medication, but you don’t have it in you to care anymore. You only plan on having a little bit, not enough to do any real damage but just enough to dull your ache. You walk over to where Sam is sitting and waiting for you to continue. “I kind of… sort of… got myself bit by ghoul. Mind stitching me up?” you ask with as much innocence in your voice as possible. You know he’ll be mad you went out for a hunt on your own. He won’t like the fact you had gotten yourself hurt while there were three willing hunters ready to back you up. He won’t understand why you did it. 

Sam shoots up from his seat and looks you over. You pull your shirt down and expose the gash on the back of your shoulder. “What the hell, Y/N?” he barks at you.

“Can we save the lecture for after you clean me up. It hurts like a mother fucker and I don’t need you scolding me right now. What I need, are some of those good pain meds you keep under the bathroom sink.”

Sam finishes examining your shoulder and lets out a heavy breath. “Wait here,” he demands before rushing off to get the first aid kit. When he comes back, he tosses you the pills you asked for and you wash them down with a hearty amount of whiskey. You’ve never had whiskey before. It burns and you can’t stop yourself from sputtering at the intensity. 

By the time Sam starts working on your shoulder, you can barely feel it. You can barely feel anything. Your head is feeling pleasantly fuzzy and free. You’re starting to understand why Dean drinks this crap so often. 

You start giggling as Sam’s gentle fingers push the stitching needle into your skin. “Kerry was right, you are good with your hands,” you say as the drugs and alcohol control your tongue. 

“What the hell were you doing going after a ghoul on your own?” Sam asks ignoring your comment.

“You worried about me, Sammy?” you reply with a smile.

“You’ve never been reckless. You always think things through and plan ahead. You’re always careful. What has gotten into you?”

“Ugh, you make me sound so boring.”

“Boring has kept you alive this far,” Sam says as he pulls the needle with one hand and holds you steady with the other. 

“Maybe I’m tired of just being  _ alive _ . I want more than that.” You try turning around to face him but Sam holds you down so he doesn’t accidently jab you with the needle. Once he settles you down, you continue on with your inebriated rambling. “Maybe I want to start living. Maybe if I lived life like Kerry does, I could have had the life I always wanted. But, no! I always had to be diligent and cautious,” you say with exaggerated seriousness. “But that was a load of shit.”

Sam mumbles an affirmation. He is focused on stitching you up, so he’s only half listening to what you’re saying. 

“I always had a plan because I was scared of what would happen if I let myself live in the moment. If I never gave life a chance to throw me a curve ball, then I would be safe. But you taught me that curve balls fly no matter what you do,” you sigh. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you. In the same vein, I thought that if I never gave  _ you a _ chance to reject me, then I would be safe too. But that came back to bite me in the ass. I now know I was never safe. I was never safe from you. You were always meant to break me.” Being unable to see Sam over your shoulder is making it easier for you to speak your mind. It is almost as if you forgot you are talking to the actual person you are talking about. 

“Wait, what?” Sam has stopped sewing your wound. Your confession has rapt his full attention. 

“You really never knew, did you?” you say as you glance over your shoulder before turning back. “I’m sure I never even crossed your mind as a possibility. Doesn’t matter now, anyway. I’m too late,” you state the plain truth.

“Too late for what?” Sam asks with hesitation. 

“For you,” you whisper. 

Sam scrabbles to find the right thing to say. He has never seen you  _ that way _ before. He’s not blind, he has always known you are beautiful. But, he never expected he would see you as anything more than a friend. Until now. You are finally being open and honest with him. The hurt in your voice tears him apart and he wants to make it go away. He hates being the unknowing source of your pain. 

“Y/N, I -”

“No don’t,” you say in a surprisingly sober tone. “Please just don’t. I can’t hear you say the actual words. I know I never had a chance. But, I just can’t hear you say it out loud.”

Sam doesn’t speak. You expect him to walk away and leave you to stew with your pathetic thoughts. Instead, he places a chaste kiss onto your shoulder right next to your wound. You turn in his hold but he won’t look you in the eye. Before you can say another word, Sam dives forward and catches your lips in a desperate kiss. His large hands cup your cheeks as his tongue begs for entrance. Once granted, he claims your mouth with a gentle dominance. It is a kind of safety you thought you would never know. His teeth nip at your bottom lip. He clambers to your taste. He is drinking in every part of you to commit this moment to memory. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter and pulls away from you. 

The second your lips leave his, he finds himself missing you. But, he doesn’t move back in for more. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip as your eyes flutter open. He told himself that he kissed you to ease your hurt and quell his curiosity. But, as pleading confusion plagues your beautiful and watering eyes, he knows that kiss was about a lot more than simply comforting you.    

“I love you,” the words slip out of your mouth before you have time to stop them. 

Sam’s fingers slip away from you. “I’ll send Dean out to finish patching you up,” he says through ragged breaths before darting out of the room. He wants to look back but doesn’t. He fucked up. He may have just ruined his most cherished friendship. He’ll only make it worse if looks back. 

You are left sitting on the table. You are panting and your head is spinning. You wish you could blame the tingling in your chest on the whiskey but you know better. The creeping dread within you cannot be dismissed as you being a lightweight. It was the regret in his eyes as he pulled away from you that is the true source of your anxiety.

You bury your face into your hands. What have you done?

* * *

 

When you wake up the next morning, everything hurts. You’re roused by an incessant beeping noise. It is the watch you wear that monitors your heart rate. But this morning, you don’t need the watch to tell you that you are unbalanced. You can feel the hammering in your chest and the heaviness in your head all on your own. 

You get up and take an early dose of your medication, hoping it will calm you down. You have imagined your first kiss with Sam hundreds of times. Never did the kiss occur while he was starting a relationship with your best friend. And, never did he run out of the room afterwards. 

With heavy feet, you make your way to the kitchen. Everyone is already in there. Great. 

“Hey, Y/N. You want some coffee?” Sam asks you in the same way he does every morning. 

His nonchalance surprises you but you respond anyway. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

The morning carries on like any other. The brothers banter. Kerry bounces around the room after her coffee kicks in. But, you sit there and try to catch Sam’s eye. You’re trying to gage his reaction but he is acting as if nothing happened. 

Maybe nothing did happen. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you had a vivid dream about confessing your feelings to Sam. Maybe it was all in your head. But, the stitches on your back and your hangover are very real. 

Kerry excuses herself to go shower once breakfast is over. Dean leaves to go work on Baby shortly after, leaving you and Sam alone. 

You sit there in silence. You’re not sure if you should bring it up. 

“Last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry. I never should have… it was a mistake,” Sam shatters the silence and your heart. 

So, it was real. 

You can see how much it pains him to do this. Above all else, he is your friend and you know he doesn’t want to hurt you. But, you also know that you’re not what he wants. He has to let you down and there is no gentle way to do it. 

You decide to make it easy on him. “I understand.” 

You go to your room and start packing. You can’t stay here now that your secret is out. You told him you loved him. There is no going back to the way things were. Sam will continue to look at you with pity in his eyes. Plus, it would be forever painful watching them together. The prospect of seeing Sam and Kerry cuddle at the breakfast table or hearing their love through the thin walls is too much to bear. You have to leave. 

Kerry enters your room without knocking and sees you packing. “Now where are you going?” she asks. Her hair is still dripping from her shower and making a small puddle on the ground by her feet. 

“I can’t stay cooped up here any longer. I need a little air,” you respond. It’s not a complete lie. 

“You’re not going out to get bit by another ghoul, are you?” she asks as she puts her hands on her hips. 

“Sam told you about that?”

“Sam told me a lot of things about last night. I’m not mad,” she reassures you. 

You freeze in fear. You regret a lot of things about last night, betraying Kerry is front and center above anything else. “I’m so sorry,” you plead. 

“Relax, I get it. I went to his room last night and he was pacing around like a caged animal. He said that you kissed? And, you said you loved him?” 

You shrink away from her with embarrassment coloring your cheeks. Apparently, your most private moment with Sam is a public knowledge. You now not only have to deal with the shame of being a terrible friend, but also the shame associated with everyone knowing you’ll always play second fiddle. You try to respond to Kerry. But, at best the only sounds that come out of your mouth are a stammering of vowels that barely mimic words.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she tries to calm you down. The soft smile on her lips tells you she isn’t mad. She really is an amazing fiend, which only makes you feel worse. “It’s actually kind of funny when you think about it. I think it’s cute. I’m glad you finally put yourself out there for once. I mean, you have shitty timing but good for you!” the softness in her voice is giving way to a more condescending tone. “But, I thought you had your little crush under control?”

“Wait, you knew I – that I –”   

“Of course, I knew! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Sam is the one you’ve been in love with for all these years. I knew since the moment I saw you two together in that booth. I could almost smell the desperation coming off of you. I think Sam was the only one who didn’t know, or at least he didn’t  _ want to _ know.” You stare at her with your mouth agape. With every syllable, she sounds less and less like the friend you know and love. You have always pitied anyone who pissed her off. She always goes for the jugular. You just never expected she’d ever turn her wicked way with words on you. 

You know you fucked up by kissing Sam. You deserve everything she is willing to dish out. It is all true anyway. You stand there and take it. You hurt your friend so the least you can do is let her vent her frustrations in peace.

“Look Y/N/N, I said I’m not mad and I’m not. I just don’t understand why you would put yourself or us through this. There is a reason nothing happened between you two for all those years. Just like, there is a reason why Sam and I got together the night we met. It was never going to be you. You should have left well enough alone,” she adds in a softer tone. 

“Do you love him?” 

“Are you nuts? It’s only been two weeks. But, I think I could, one day.” Kerry responds with a shrug. You must have involuntarily rolled your eyes at her response. “What was that for?” she asks when she notices your gesture.

“Nothing,” you try to avoid the fight but she refuses to speak until you fess up. “It’s just… you knew how I felt about him. You knew that I was already in love with him. And yet, you still went after him? Even though you only like him.”

“Oh, come on! We both know you never had a chance with a guy like that.”

“That’s not the point! You knew it would hurt me to see you two together but you went after him anyway. Why? Because you thought he was hot? Everywhere we go, you have a parade of guys at your feet. Why couldn’t you pick one of them. Why did you have to pick the one guy you knew I had feelings for?”

“Get off your high horse, Y/N. You let your jealousy run wild last night. You don’t have the upper ground to call me out on my shitty behaviour!” she informs you. 

“I will always hate myself for what I did to you. I will always regret it,” you state.  “But I need you to answer the question. Why him? Why did you have to pick Sam of all people?”

“One of us might as well be happy,” she breathes out. “And, if it was never going to be you… it may as well be me. It’s nothing personal. I saw an opportunity and I took it,” the simplicity of her reasoning catches you off guard. 

It shouldn’t surprise you that she put her own happiness above yours. But, it hurts all the same. What you did last night will gnaw at you forever. You now think less of yourself as a woman and a friend. But, her betrayal doesn’t even seem to faze her.  

You swallow thickly to stop yourself from tearing up. There is nothing more to say. The damage to your friendship is done, if there was anything to even damage in the first place. 

Without a word, she watches as you finish packing. You spare her one last glance before leaving the room. You turn out of the doorway and crash into a warm wall of muscle. You look up to see a wide-eyed Sam returning your look of surprise. You assume he heard everything, or at least just enough to know how pathetic you are. How pathetic you’ve always been. 

You hold his silent gaze for a long moment. You want to tell him that you will always love him and you understand that he could never love you back. You want to beg him to stay in your life, even if it is only as a friend. But the words don’t come. His stare breaks from yours and he looks over your shoulder. You turn back to see Kerry has emerged from what used to be your room and is watching your interaction. There is no jealousy, anger, or fear in her eyes. She knows you are not a threat. You’ve never been and never will be her competition, for that to be possible you need a fighting chance. 

You look back at Sam. He doesn’t tell you to leave but he doesn’t ask you to stay either. You tighten your grip on your duffle bag and slip around Sam. You head hangs lower than usual as you make your way to the garage. You can feel their eyes prying into you as you retreat. It isn’t until you turn the corner and are out of their sight before you let out the breath you were holding. 

You clutch at your chest with one hand and hold the wall for stability with the other. You’re no stranger to chest pain. But this kind of heartache is something new altogether. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

You have only been gone from the bunker for less than a day and you’re already at a loss. You don’t regret leaving. You regret how you left. Scurrying away with your tail between your legs is not how you wanted to end things. You didn’t even get a chance to explain to Dean why you left. He will hear their side of the story and you will no doubt be painted in an unflattering light. You know you deserve it, but you can’t help but wish you could have explained things to Dean yourself. It would break what is left of your heart if he looks down on you. He has always been your rock and you don’t want him to shun you too. You can’t lose him. He is all you have left. 

But now, you have no choice but to face him. In your haste to leave the bunker, you had forgotten to pack a few things. You left behind your toothbrush, the old flannel you sleep in, and your phone charger. Those things are all replaceable so you don’t care much. But, the one thing you left behind that you can’t literally live without is your medication. You can’t go back to bunker get it yourself. So, now you have to call Dean so he can bring them to you. 

He’ll no doubt badger you until you confess what the medication is for. He’ll be pissed you’ve hid this from him for so long but you don’t have much of choice. Plus, you may as well use this opportunity to say a proper goodbye. 

You stare at your phone with hesitation. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You remind yourself that Dean has always been there for you. He has always been on your side and supported you. You may have fucked up but Dean has always accepted your shortcomings. He won’t judge you. And yet, you’re still afraid to press the call button. 

When you finally take the plunge, you pace around the room while it rings. 

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answers. However, you stop dead in your tracks when you realize the voice doesn’t belong to Dean. There is only one person whose voice can make your heart drop like this. You pull the phone away to make sure you called the right number. You did. You put the phone back up to your ear but do not say a word, you can’t. After a moment of silence, Sam speaks again. “Y/N?” he says in a hushed tone as if he doesn’t want the other people in the room with him overhearing. “Y/N please-”

You hang up. 

You know it’s not a mature response. A well-adjusted person would have exchanged pleasantries and asked to speak to Dean. But you’ve never been good at handling your emotions, obviously. Besides, the wounds are still a little too fresh for you to talk to Sam about the weather while you wait for Dean.

You’re too scared to call back. Tears well in your eyes at the thought of having to hear his voice again. After a few minutes, you text Dean’s phone lest you risk Sam picking up again. You tell him where to find your pills and where to meet you. Within seconds you get an affirming reply. 

You get to the diner early. You’re supposed to meet Dean here and you wanted to come early enough to pre-order him some pie. It would be your sad and desperate attempt to butter him up so he won’t be mad at you. Unfortunately, as usual, your plan doesn’t work out. 

You walk into the empty diner and the bell above the door alerts everyone to your entrance. You scan the room but your eyes go wide when the fall on the wrong Winchester. As soon as Sam notices you, he stands from his booth. His eyes are pleading with you not to run out the way you came. You contemplate it. Hell, you almost do it. But you know he’ll catch you and you need your goddamn pills.

You walk over to his table but don’t sit down. You both just stand there staring at each other. You look over and see your pill bottle sitting on the table. You reach over to get it but Sam grips your wrist. He doesn’t want you to run off before you get a chance to talk. You pull your hand out of his grasp and give him a hard glare. He raises his hands in defence to show you he won’t touch you again. 

You take your pills off the table and leave. You don’t have it in you to spare him one last glance. It would hurt too much. You’re barely keeping it together as it is. 

“Y/N wait!” Sam calls after you as he follows you into the parking lot. You don’t stop. You can’t stop. You reach for your car door when Sam speaks again. “Don’t go,” he pleads one last time. 

You can’t stop yourself from laughing. It is a sad laugh that echoes into the night air. You turn to face Sam. “Now you tell me not to go? I hate to break it to you, but I’m already gone. You made sure of that. I texted Dean not you. I don’t need you trying to backpedal because you feel bad for me,” there is more venom in your voice than you expected. 

“That’s not…” Sam runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think you’d come if you knew I wasn’t Dean but I need to talk to you. I never wanted-”

“Just don’t,” you cut him off. You can’t hear his apology. You can’t hear his pity. You turn back toward your car but he grips your arm and forces you to face him. You are now trapped between Sam and the car and it’s getting hard to breathe. The longer he lets the silence hang in the air, the harder your heart starts to beat. You’ve already had to miss a dose and you wonder if you might die under his stare. As you are stuck under his unrelenting grip, a part of you wishes you would.

“Why do I have to make a choice between you or Kerry? Why can’t I have you both in my life?” He knows it’s selfish but he can’t imagine having to give up his best friend for his girlfriend. “You two are friends. Don’t do this,” he pleads with you. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m choosing this because I wanted things to turn out this way?” You push him away from you. “I never gave you an ultimatum. I would never do that to you and you know it,” you choke down the lump forming in your throat. You know that if you had given him an ultimatum, it would not turn out in your favour. “I left for me. You overheard my discussion with Kerry. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that I made a mistake walking away, then I will do whatever you want. I will go back to the bunker. I will sit quietly while I watch you fall in love and have beautiful babies with my best friend. I will choke down my cries at every lingering touch or stolen glance. If you hate me that much that you would want to put me through that much pain, then I’ll do it.”

Both you and Sam are surprised by your outburst. From what he overheard last night, he knows that your crush and that kiss has brought you nothing but pain. But, to see the hurt in your eyes firsthand is a whole new experience. He is now realizing that the pain has been there all along. He’s just been too blind to see it. 

Sam stands staring at you with his mouth agape. How is he supposed to tell you that he can’t stop thinking about your kiss if he won’t even admit it to himself. The feel of your soft lips against his. Your strawberry chapstick mixed with the whiskey to create oddly captivating taste. It’s all he’s been able to think about. 

Once again, Sam’s silence is answer enough. You turn back to open your door when he finally finds his voice. “You can’t go hunting alone!” That is not what he wanted to say but it’s the only thing that came out. He wanted to tell you to stay. He wanted to beg you not to do this. He needs you in his life and can’t imagine losing you. But the only thing his overactive mind is capable of saying is that you shouldn’t hunt alone. Smooth. 

“You’re not in the position to tell me what to do. Besides, it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice anymore,” you say without turning around to face him. 

You get in your car and drive away. He doesn’t stop you. He wants to. His mind screams at him not to let you go again. He tells himself he should have hogtied you and dragged you back to the bunker against your will. But he did none of those things. He only watched you drive away. 

It wasn’t until he got halfway home did he realize he forgot to question you about the medication. He curses himself for letting you go without getting an explanation. He scans his memory for the name of the drug that was on the pill bottle. He makes a mental note to research what that drug is used for. He was too wrapped up in the idea of losing you he didn’t realize that you were already gone.

* * *

 

“Now, I was wondering what happened to the Winchesters’ little Pet. Colour me surprised to find out she’s off killing baddies and saving Christmas all on her own. You make Daddy very proud,” a thick British accent coos behind you. 

“Hello Crowley,” you say without turning around. You don’t turn around because you don’t want him to see the smile on your face. It would physically pain you if he ever knew you actually find his presence oddly charming for a demon. 

“Aw, is someone happy to see me?” he asks as he pulls up a chair beside you. The bar is dimly lit, but that smirk is undeniable.

Shit. How does he always know?

“You wish,” is your lame reply. 

Luckily, Crowley is gentleman enough to drop it, for now. “So, Pet, I heard you flew the flannel-infested nest. Didn’t think I’d find you here, sniffing around where the big boys play.”

“You don’t think I can handle it?” you ask with a raised brow. 

“I know you can. However, I thought these types of dealings would be beneath someone of your stature,” Crowley says as his eyes rake over you. 

You roll your eyes to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. Crowley is different from any other man you’ve met. He makes you feel special. He makes you feel seen. You met Crowley a few years ago when you were tagging along on one of the Winchester’s hunts. Ever since then, he has peaked your interest. No other man, even and especially Sam, has ever looked at you the way Crowley does. You know he is just being his flirty and charming self. He probably teases everyone this way, but it’s nice nonetheless. 

“Are you afraid I’ll interrupt your dirty dealings? I didn’t think anything scared the King of Hell,” you push the demon’s buttons.

“Darling, I thought you knew,” he leans in close so his lips are grazing against your ear. “You always have me quaking.”

His warm breath and teasing lips tickle your skin. You push him away to cover up your shudder. “You are such a cheesy dork!” you nudge his shoulder. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me a ‘dork’,” Crowley says with amusement at your choice of words. 

“Not to your face,” you mutter under your breath. 

Crowley hears you, just as you intended. Neither of you can hide the warm smiles on your faces. You know you’re meant to be mortal enemies. The huntress and the King of Hell. But this is the first time you have had someone to talk to in months. Since you left the bunker, you’ve had no one to laugh with or feel close to. And as strange as it is, Crowley is that person for you. Against all odds, he is the closest thing to a friend you have left. 

A few drinks later, Crowley starts showing you how he can tie the stem of a cherry with his tongue. Under normal circumstances, you would find his flagrant display too obvious. But, you have had enough alcohol that you now find his talent impressive. 

He hands you a cherry and challenges you to try. You fail miserably. You try to look sexy but accidently end up drooling when the stem almost falls out of your mouth. Instead of being embarrassed, you and Crowley end up falling into a fit of laughter. 

“Well well, looks like we’re a little late to the party.” You look over Crowley’s shoulder and nearly choke on the cherry stem that still rests in your mouth. Dean is standing behind the demon with his arms crossed in front of him. He doesn’t look too pleased to see you chumming it up with the King of Hell. But he quickly breaks his grumpy façade as he strides over and captures you in a bone-crushing embrace. You can tell by the hug that he may have missed you almost as much as you missed him. 

Your wide smile fades when you notice Dean isn’t here alone. Sam and Kerry stand side by side by the bar door. They are each staring at you and you start shifting in your seat. All of the sudden you notice how uncomfortable the seat actually is. Crowley notices your sudden shift in demeanour and follows your gaze. 

He rolls his eyes. “Hello Moose,” Crowley stands to his full height to face the new arrivals. He may not have Winchester stature, but he is no less intimidating. “I see you have a new friend,” he turns to Kerry. He sizes her up. To your utter surprise, he doesn’t take her hand and kiss her knuckles like you expected he would. He doesn’t give her a cute nickname or give any of his signature charm. He simply narrows his eyes at her then lifts his brows as he turns back toward you. 

He moves to stand behind you and leans to whisper in your ear as he passes. “Is that what all the fuss is about? Huh, I don’t see it,” he says quiet enough so only you can hear him. That comment was meant for only you. He didn’t say it to be mean or to insult Sam and get him riled up. He said it to quell the insecurities that are resurfacing within you. 

Sam steps forward and leaves Kerry’s side when he sees how close Crowley is getting to you. He doesn’t know what the demon said but whatever it was, it caused a soft smile to spread across your cheeks. Sam doesn’t know why but that sight bothers him.

“What are you doing here?” Sam address you. He is purposely not looking up at the demon standing behind you. 

“Probably the same thing you are,” you answer. 

“We weren’t a hundred percent sure there was a case here. But now that we know Crowley is in town too, I’d say we didn’t waste a trip,” Dean says as he smirks at Crowley.

Crowley feigns offense. “I am hurt that you think so low of me. Maybe I’m just here in town visiting on old friend,” Crowley says as he lays a firm hand on you shoulder. Dean scoffs not believing a word.

Crowley’s thumb starts drawing circles into the tension in your back. You inadvertently lean into his touch. A wicked smile spreads across his face. From the moment Crowley caught wind you were in town, he had every intention of helping ease your tension tonight. But as he watches Sam’s jaw tighten with anger he can’t help but think this is an added bonus. Watching a Winchester seethe in what can only be described as pent up jealousy, is all the more intriguing. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam address you again. “What are you doing here with him?” Sam clarifies his question. 

“Relax, it’s just Crowley,” you say with a shrug.

Before Sam can respond, Crowley pipes up. “Hey! What do you mean ‘just’ Crowley? I am the King of Hell. Feared by all. Worshiped by many,” he says as he puffs out his chest dramatically. 

“Yeah, sure. You’re harmless and we all know it,” you quip. You don’t know why but you like pushing his buttons. Your playful smile tells Crowley that you mean no disrespect, you’re just trying to get him worked up. He plays along. 

“ _ Harmless _ ? Missy, I’ll show you whose-” Crowley starts but is cut off by Dean. 

“All right. Get a room you two. Now, can we focus on the case please,” Dean says with a tired tone. His patience always runs thinner around Crowley. 

“I’ll tell you what, there are now too many hunters cooking in this kitchen. I’ll relocate my business to a town in which local casualties will be less likely. In return, you let me and my associates go on our merry way,” Crowley offers the hunters a deal. 

“Better yet, how about you call off your ‘business’ all together and I don’t stab you in the face?” Dean renegotiates. 

Crowley thinks it over. You can’t help but giggle at how his face scrunches up as he pretends to contemplate the offer.

“You drive a hard bargain, Winchester. Lucky for you, I was just about done in this crap town anyways,” Crowley relents. “I’ll let the expendable minions finish up here. If you want to go stab someone in the face, go find them. I on the other hand, would much rather keep my pretty face intact. It would be a shame to scare off a pretty lady because of a nasty scar,” Crowley turns to smile down at you. 

Crowley takes your hand off your lap and kisses your knuckles. “Until next time, Pet.”

Just like that, Crowley was gone. You are distracted by the unfamiliar tingle in your hand. You fail to notice the anger radiating off of Sam and the disgust emanating off of Kerry. The only thing you notice is a tiny weight being lifted off your chest.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

“I think I better go,” you say after Crowley leaves and you lose your back up. It was easier to face Sam and Kerry again when he was standing behind you. But now, he’s gone and you’re on your own. You know you would have Dean’s support. But in the end, he will always side this his brother. You don’t blame him for that, you understand. 

“Don’t leave!” Dean says as he pulls you back into your chair. “We haven’t seen you in forever. Just stay, please,” Dean pleads. 

You look back to where Sam and Kerry have yet to move an inch since Crowley left. Kerry’s hardened glare tells you exactly how unwelcome you are. “Maybe another time,” you whisper as you slip out of Dean’s grasp. “I’ve had a long day. I’m not really in the mood for company,” you admit. 

Sam scoffs.

“What’s your problem?” You turn to face him. 

“Nothing… you just didn’t seem to mind having company when it was Crowley who had his paws all over you,” Sam says with a raised eyebrow. 

“Maybe I wasn’t being clear then… I’m not in the mood for  _ your  _ company,” you don’t bother hiding the truth. 

“What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you and Crowley even friends? Are you that desperate for someone to talk to that you’ll settle for a fucking demon? I thought you were better than that,” Sam says as his anger controls his tongue. He doesn’t know why he is so worked up. But, seeing you laughing with Crowley and leaning into his touch set Sam on edge. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings but the words slipped out before he could stop them. 

You don’t respond. You can’t respond. You grab your jacket and push past Sam to get to the exit. You need to get out of here before any of them see you cry. Dean shouts after you but you don’t look back. 

It took you a long time to get where you are. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re in a  _ good _ place. But, you’re better off than you were at the bunker. You still regret what happened. But time alone allowed you to see you weren’t the only one at fault. And in a matter of minutes, Sam can erase all your progress until your self-doubt once again rears its ugly head. 

You get back to your motel room and slam the door shut behind you. The room is quiet which only amplifies your intrusive thoughts. Why did they have to come here? He has everything he wanted. Why does he have to twist the knife in your chest just as the wound is starting to heal?

You flop down on the bed and turn on the television hoping the sound will drown out the resurging pain. You start carving devil’s traps into your bullet casings. Crowley may have skipped town but he left behind the lower level demons you have to take care of in the morning. 

You get only three bullets in before someone knocks on your door. “It’s open,” you shout. As a hunter, you know that is an unsafe way to answer the door but you’re not in the mood to care. Besides, you gun is sitting right next to you. If it’s anyone dangerous, they’ll be pumped full of lead before they even cross the threshold. 

When Sam walks in, you roll your eyes. You would almost prefer a monster over him. 

“Do you always answer the door like that?” Sam asks a little annoyed at your reckless behaviour. 

“Only when I have my hands full,” you say as you hold up the large knife you’re using to carve into the bullets. “How did you know where to find me?” You ask with every intention of killing the motel clerk for rating you out. 

“You still use the same aliases,” Sam says with a shy smile. He remembers when the two of you came up with the aliases together. Those happy memories make him bold enough to try lightening the mood. “If I didn’t know any better Ms. Carter, I’d say you wanted to be found,” Sam says with hope.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” you say with genuine disbelief. 

“That’s not something I’d forget.” Sam’s smile widens when he sees the ice in your eyes starting to melt. 

It warms you to know that at least some of your happier times together are not lost. “Well, sorry for doubting you… Mr. Cash,” you say as your lip curls into an almost imperceptible smile. But, Sam sees it. 

Every time you think of your matching aliases, you can’t fight off the warmth that fills you. That’s why you still use it. It reminds you of better times. It is a bittersweet memory. The musical legends you chose for your namesakes were Sam’s idea. He said that their life long bond was something to admire, something he wanted with you. That is the sweet part of the memory. The bitter comes from you misinterpreting his words. You foolishly thought he meant he wanted a romantic bond with you, just like the real-life couple. Turns out, he was only referring to platonic devotion. You learned that the hard way. 

Sam can see your smile waver. He decides to speak up before he once again lets the warmth in your eyes slip away. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have said those things at the bar.” Sam runs a hand down his face. “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have said. But, there are even more I should have said. I know it’s selfish of me to ask this but please don’t leave again. I need you,” he pleads. 

His eyes glisten and the rims act as a dam about to overflow. In a similar regard, you feel your own dam about to break. Your resolve weakens. You try to hold on to the anger. You know he will only let you down. He will never be able to give you what you truly want. You left for reason. But as he pleads with you, you can’t remember what that reason was.

“I can’t go back to the bunker. It’s too much, too soon. Besides, it’s better for everyone if I stay away. But, I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting up on a hunt or two every so often,” you relent. You don’t want to make too many promises. But baby steps can’t be too bad. 

“You mean it?” Sam asks with hope. 

“Quit looking at me like that or I’ll change my mind,” you inform him. His wide smile and hopeful eyes are starting to make you blush but you don’t want him to see.  

“Sorry,” Sam says as he tries forcing himself to frown. His over-the-top and failing efforts to appear disappointed make you laugh. He’s missed that sound. 

A comfortable silence hangs in the air for a brief moment. Sam is starting to believe that things may finally go back to the way they were. That thought causes a contentment he didn’t even know he was missing to settle back into his chest. However, that same thought fills you with dread. You don’t want things to go back to the way they were. There was too much pain on your end. You fear you may already regret your agreement. 

Sam doesn’t want to ruin your amenable state. But there is something that has been eating away at him since you left. 

“Y/N, I want you to talk to me about those pills you left behind at the bunker. I looked it up and…” Sam is interrupted by his phone ringing. 

“You going to get that?” You ask hoping he’ll answer the phone and you can avoid where this conversation was headed. 

Sam hesitates but answers it. When he realizes who it is, he moves away from you so you cannot overhear what is being said on the other end. You can tell by his behaviour who it is and what she is no doubt saying. 

Sam hangs up and looks at you with a guilty smile. “That was Kerry,” he tells you what you already know. 

“I figured,” you say as you start polishing your knife. 

“We have to continue this conversation. But… they found something that will help us track those demons Crowley left behind. I wish I didn’t, but I have to go,” he says with reluctance. “Why don’t you come back with me? They can walk us through it together,” Sam offers.

“Baby steps, Sammy,” you refuse his olive branch. “Just text me a location and I’ll meet you there in the morning. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.” 

Sam leaves but promises he isn’t finished with this discussion. He won’t let it go. You have no intention of discussing this with him but you don’t tell him that. You’re hoping he will forget about it by the next time he sees you.

* * *

 

The next morning, you arrive at the location Sam texted you. You’re the first one here so you give the perimeter a quick once over. As you lean against your car and wait, you can’t help but be a little unimpressed. An abandoned warehouse is so cliché and unoriginal. If you were ever a demon, you would take a page out of Crowley’s book and strive for the swankier establishments. But luckily, the demons you’re facing today are predictable. They are no doubt as unimaginative as their real-estate preferences. 

You hear the roar of Baby’s engine and can’t help but get excited. That sound always makes you feel at home.

The greeting is awkward a first. But, you and Kerry come to an unspoken agreement to be civil and not get in the other’s way. Hunting is dangerous enough as it is, neither of you want a partner you cannot trust watching your back. 

Despite your silent truce, you still opt to team up with Dean. He is the only one you can trust wholly and completely. 

You and Dean take the front of the building while Sam and Kerry clear the back. The plan is to meet in the middle and hopefully take out all the baddies along the way. Things run smoothly until Dean loses his weapon in a hand to hand fight. The demons start closing in on him and you’re out of bullets. 

Seeing Dean in danger causes your panicked mind to come up with a less-than-brilliant plan. You yell to catch the demons’ attention then start running. You know that some will chose to abandon Dean to chase you down. Not all, but just enough to thin the herd and give Dean a fighting chance. 

You come to regret your plan when the only direction to run is up. Stairs have always been a challenge for you. The taxing obstacle always test the limits of your weak heart. You don’t know how far up you’ll have to run or if your heart can take this kind of strain. But with three demons on your tail, you don’t have much of a choice. 

Your chest tightens the higher you are forced to go. You are six stories up and you curse your ailing heart for failing you so soon. Through your laboured breaths, you can feel yourself slowing down. You try and push forward but your increasing heart rate is making you feel dizzy. You feel firm fingers grip onto your ankle and you fall forward. You head cracks off the stairs. Before you can regain your focus, you are being dragged down. You grunt in pain as your body bounces off each step. 

One of the demons pins you down and straddles your chest and constricts your breathing further. You are unable to gain your bearings before a closed fist lands across your cheek. You hear someone call your name and then thundering footstep approaching where you lay. The next thing you know, the demon is pulled off of you. 

Air finally rushes back into your lungs and you try to steady your breaths to calm your racing heart. You roll onto your side and look up to see Sam fighting off the three demons at once. You push yourself off the ground to come to his aid. You know you won’t be much help in this state, but you can’t leave him on his own. 

You pull on the nearest demon’s jacket to get him away from Sam. He turns around and takes a swing at you but you duck just in time. You push him up against the railing. You have no weapons and dwindling strength. The only plan you can think of is to push him over the low railing. It won’t kill the demon, but it will give you time to handle the other two. You thrust your shoulder at him and he starts falling backwards. Right as he is about to go over, something pushes into you and you fall into the demon’s arms. He grabs onto your forearm and intends on taking you with him. You try planting your feet but cannot gain proper traction. 

You think the fall is inevitable until two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back. You slip from the demon’s grasp as he tumbles over the edge. You turn around and see Sam is looking down at you with fear. With you pulled up against his chest he can feel your heart racing at a dangerous rate. He saw the demons crack your head against the metal staircase and he knew your body could not handle the fall as well. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t let you go over that edge. 

To save you, Sam had to turned his back on the two demons he was fighting. As he holds you steady, his concerned hazels eyes go wide suddenly. His grip over you lightens. Worry brews within you until it morphs into full blown fear as Sam starts coughing up blood. He slips from your arms and falls to his knees. 

You are finally able to see over his shoulder. One of the demons is standing there with a wicked smirk and a large knife bloodied to the hilt. You look down to find Sam’s light blue flannel is turning red at the back. 

You fall to your knees in front of him to hold his head up. He’s too heavy and starts wobbling from his inability to bear its own weight. You let him fall forward onto you so his head is resting in your lap. You cradle his large from in your arms. The shock of what just happened prevents you from taking in what is going on around you. Your entire focus is drawn to the boneless man in your arms. You are vaguely aware of another fight starting around you. It must be Dean and/or Kerry coming to take care of the remaining demons. But that is not your concern right now. 

You push the hair out of his face. You expect to see anger or regret in Sam’s eyes. He got himself hurt trying to save you. You expect him to regret that decision. You both know you’re not worth it. Your life is not worth his. Why would he do this? But to your utter surprise, there is no disdain or resentment in his features. He is offering you a warm and contented smile. He looks at peace with his decision. 

You don’t realize you are crying until Sam reaches up to brush your tears away with his weakening fingers. You lean against his touch. His eyes start to flutter shut and his palm slips from your cheek. 

A panicked sob escapes your throat. “Dean!” You cry out as you look up for help. Dean and Kerry are just finishing off the last of the demons when they hear your cry. Dean sees Sam’s limp body in your arms and rushes to your side in an instant. 

Dean springs into action without a second thought. Unlike you, he is able to stay cool long enough to try and save his brother. Dean picks Sam up off the ground and throws him over his shoulder. Sam’s grunt of pain tells you that he’s still alive and you feel hope brewing inside you. There is no strain in Dean’s face as he lifts the large man, only fierce determination. When his brother’s life is on the line, nothing will get in his way. He starts rushing down the stairs toward the exit. He needs to get his brother to a hospital. 

You still sit on the ground watching as Dean makes his way down the rest of the stairs. Your stupefied limbs make you incapable of moving. 

The next thing you know, Kerry is standing in front of you with her arm out. You think she is there to help you up. But she uses her extended hand to slap you across the face. The stinging in your cheek wakes you from your catatonia. 

“What the hell did you do?” She asks as fear strains her voice. “We were fine! He’s always fine! Then we go on one hunt with  _ you  _ and you fucking get him killed!” The venom in her voice is punctuated by her slapping you again. You take it. It’s the least you deserve. 

When you don’t respond, Kerry runs away from you. She catches up to where Dean is carrying Sam out of the building. The second they are out of sight, you wake yourself up from your daze. You rush down the stairs and out the door. But by the time you get outside, the Impala is already peeling away. 

You get in your car and drive to the nearest hospital, hoping to catch up to them. When you walk into the waiting room, you see Dean pacing around. Kerry is the first to notice your arrival. She springs from her seat and lunges toward you. Dean wraps his arms around her to hold the furious woman back. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough?” She spits out at you. 

“Calm down! It wasn’t her fault,” Dean tries defending you. But you’re not sure he is even convincing himself. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a lowered head. 

“You better be! You got him killed!” Kerry screams at you. 

Your head shoots up and your eyes widen. “He’s… he’s…” you can’t say the words.

“He’s not dead!” Dean yells at everyone. He is trying to remind himself of that fact too.

“Not yet. But you heard the doctor, he not ‘optimistic’,” Kerry says as her anger gives way to anguish. “What the hell are we going to do?” 

“We wait. If the doctors can’t fix him then I’ll do what I have to do. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again,” Dean says as the same determination you saw earlier resurfaces. 

Kerry hasn’t known the Winchesters long enough to know what Dean means. But, you are all too aware. 

“Dean, you can’t! Sam will kill you if you sell your soul for him again. You two promised each other you wouldn’t pull that shit anymore,” you remind Dean. 

“Why are you trying to talk me out of this? It’s none of your business. You left us. You left him. I’m just cleaning up the mess you made!” Dean shouts at you. You are both shocked by the truth that slips out of Dean’s mouth on its own accord. His words hit you like a punch to the stomach and when Dean sees you recoil away from him, he tries to backtrack. “Shit, Y/N I didn’t mean that. It’s not your fault. Sammy would have thrown himself on the fire for anyone of us. It’s not on you,” Dean tries to undo his anger. But, the damage is done.

You turn to leave the room. You can’t be here. You all need to process what happened and your presence is only getting them worked up. Dean steps forward to stop you but Kerry grips his wrist to hold him back. 

“Let her go,” she instructs him.

Dean listens and never comes after you.

* * *

 

You stand at the crossroads and are getting impatient. You dig up the box you buried to triple check you didn’t forget anything. You didn’t. You wait there for the next two hours but no demon shows. 

You go back to your motel room. You have every intention of looking up where to find another nearby crossroad. When you open the door, you see Crowley sitting on your bed and resting his back against your headboard. His ankles are crossed and his is sipping on a glass of amber liquid. 

“I was wondering when you’d give up,” he says without looking at you. 

“What the hell did you do? Why didn’t any of your glorified salesman show up?” You ask as you throw your stuff onto the floor. 

“My boys know better than to deal with you. You are off limits,” Crowley informs you as he sets his drink down on the nightstand. 

“I didn’t feel ‘off limits’ when your minions were dragging me down a flight of stairs by my ankle,” you inform him as you touch the bruise on your temple. You probably have a concussion, but soon that will be the least of your worries. 

You see an undeniable anger settle on Crowley’s features as he gets up from the bed. He strides over to you and examines your bruise for himself. “I assure you, I have rid my house of any other disgruntled employees. Those that remain, know not to lay a finger on you,” he reports. His gentle hand traces along your purple and blue mark.

“Why?” You ask with genuine curiosity. Why would he care about you? You’re nothing. “It doesn’t matter,” you brush off your own question. “Now that you’re here, I want to make a deal,” you state. Who better to make a deal with than the King himself. 

Crowley laughs. “This is about the moose, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Pet. I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he informs you. 

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Won’t… I’m afraid I  _ won’t  _ help you,” he clarifies. “I’m not going to let you sell your soul,” Crowley says with finality. 

“That’s not up to you! It’s my decisions what I do with  _ my  _ soul!” You’re getting annoyed at how difficult he is making this. Aren’t demons supposed to want any soul that is offered?

“It is my decision, I’m the bloody King,” Crowley reminds you. “Besides, shouldn’t his little girlfriend be the one making this deal? Why are you the one who has to make the sacrifice? Last I heard, that flannel wearing idiot made his choice. It was the wrong choice but he made it. You don’t owe him anything.”

You look up at Crowley with water in your eyes. “Please, she won’t do it. I know her. She will accept he’s gone and move on. But I can’t do that. And I sure as hell can’t let Dean sell his soul to clean up my mess. It has to be me. I did this. I can undo it.”

You step forward and rest your aching head on Crowley’s chest. He wraps his arms around you and takes the back of your head into his palm. He runs his finger through your hair. For the first time all night, you feel some semblance of comfort. In Crowley’s embrace, you are shielded from the pain in your chest and burden of your decisions. You feel an inexplicable security in his arms. 

“Look at me, Love.” Crowley tilts your head back by hooking a finger under your chin. He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I can’t let you die,” he whispers with an uncharacteristic softness. 

“I’m already dead,” you inform him. His eyes narrow at you with confusion and fear. You’ve never told anyone this but your oddly comfortable telling Crowley. The thought of opening up to him doesn’t scare you. “I’ve got an early expiration date. My ticker ain’t so good. At the rate I’m going and life I lead, I only have a couple good years left at best. But, Sam has the rest of his life. He can help more people and become a great man. I’ve done all I’m ever going to do. Now, is my time. I want to go out with purpose,” you admit to Crowley. A weight lifts of your shoulders as soon as you say the words out loud. 

Amidst Crowley’s silence, you can see an internal war being fought behind his eyes. You hook your fingers into the lapels of his coat and curl your body closer into his comforting warmth. He lowers his head so his lips press against the top of your forehead. He expects you to pull away. You may be kind to him and even flirty at times, but he is still a demon and you are still a hunter. He never would have expected you to nuzzle into him further. Never in his wildest dreams would he expect to hear you let out a breath of relief and contentment. But that is exactly what you do. 

“If I am to agree to this, there will be conditions,” Crowley relents with great hesitation. 

“Anything,” you say as the prospect of saving Sam slips within reach.

* * *

 

Sam wakes up in a hospital room all alone. His first thought is of you. Your face plagued his unconscious mind the entire time he was out. He was forced to re-experience the pain he saw in your eyes when you realized he had been hurt.  He was hoping you’d be here when he woke up so he could reassure you he is fine. He wants to ease the worry that scrunched your brow and quivered you’re lip. But, he’ll just have to wait until you come back.

As Sam waits for someone to realize he’s awake, confusion starts to lace his features. The memories of what happened rush back into his mind. He should be dead. His first thought is that his brother did something stupid to bring him back. But, the slight pain in his back tells him he is not fully healed. If Dean made a deal, then his wound would be gone. His back hurts less than he expected it would. But, he chalks it up to good pain meds. 

A strange realization washes over Sam. You are his first and only thought after he woke up, not Kerry. The thought of seeing you again and making sure you’re alright is his priority, nothing else. He is just now understanding how telling that is. 

* * *

 

You get a text from Dean saying Sam will be fine. He’s doing a lot better than the doctors expected he would. Recovery may take a little while but he’ll be good as new sooner rather than later. 

You smile at that news but don’t respond to the text. You put your phone facedown on the table. Crowley kept up his end of the bargain, now it’s your turn. The prospect of what is to come should scare you. But you’re ready for it. A strange part of you is even looking forward to it. 

Crowley is back in his seated position in your bed. He is again resting against the headboard but instead of nursing a whiskey he is holding his arm out for you. You crawl into the bed next to him and curl into his side. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as you rest your head on his chest. You start nervously fidgeting with the buttons on his coat. 

“Relax, Pet. It will be over soon,” he assures you as he rubs your arm in a soothing gesture. 

“Will it hurt?” You are surprised by the meekness of your own voice. But you know you don’t have to be afraid to show your vulnerability to Crowley. He will soon see the darkest parts of you. No point in getting shy now. 

“Not a bit,” he whispers as he pulls you closer. 

Crowley offered to give you more time, time to say goodbye. But you figured it’s better to get this over with before anyone finds out what you’re up to. One thing you did ask Crowley is to keep his hellhounds at bay. You don’t want the Winchesters to find you torn apart. You want them to think you died from your injuries or your heart disease. You don’t want them to look to closely into your death. 

You also asked Crowley to heal Sam gradually so he doesn’t realize you sold your soul for him. The thought may cross his mind but he’ll have no evidence to prove it. You remember the burden Sam carried when he found out Dean had accepted an eternity in hell for his sake. You don’t want to return that weight to his shoulders. Out of guilt, he would try and get you out of your deal and bring you back. You can’t have that. It’s better if everyone thinks his recovery is a legitimate medical triumph. Also, you want them to believe you died of natural causes. 

Your heart beat slows and your breath becomes shallow. Crowley runs his fingers through your hair. It feels like you’re falling asleep. You may want this, but the fear is still there. Everything is about to change. You clutch onto Crowley’s coat with weak fingers to reassure yourself he’s still there. 

“I’ve got you, Pet… always,” he promises you. He reaches down and hooks his arm under your knees. He pulls you into his lap. He holds you as he feels you becoming limp in his arms. 

He rests his forehead down onto yours as you slip away. He hates this. He knows you’ll be back but he still hates himself for agreeing to this. He was hoping you would back down once you heard his offer. But it seemed as though it only made you want to do it more.

He can feel your skin cool as your weak heart fails you for the last time. Then, you’re gone. He stays in this position just holding you while he waits. He can feel the air around you shift. 

He leans his head down to whisper in your ear. “The world is ours, my Queen.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

_ Years Later (2014) _

Sam storms down the hall of Crowley’s asylum turned mansion. He has been trying to get a hold of the King of Hell for weeks but hasn’t gotten a response. However, last night Sam saw some security footage that lit a new fire in his search. He saw his brother, or the demon inside his brother, going on a killing spree in a small-town gas station. Now he knows Crowley is behind his brother’s disappearance. And, if Crowley won’t come to him, he will go to Crowley. 

Sam turns the corner of the maze-like building and two demons step in his war path. Sam raises the demon blade but one of the demons holds up his hands. “Please, you can’t go in there! The King is… busy.” The demon’s voice is thick with fear. They were threatened with great amounts of torture if they let anyone disturb Crowley right now. However, Sam puts the creatures out of their misery. Within seconds, they are dead. Now, they need not worry about any future torture.

Sam finally finds Crowley’s room. From the noises he can hear from within, the King is not alone. But Sam could not care less even if he tried. He is determined to find his brother and nothing will get in his way. He can’t lose anyone else. 

Sam raises his knife and kicks in the door. What he sees next, makes his blood run cold. 

You are straddling Crowley’s lap as a blanket is wrapped low around your hips, barely covering anything. The sounds you are pulling from your King drive you to bounce a little harder. Crowley is resting his back against the headboard while his hands grip your bare chest. 

The sound of the doorframe splintering open behind you catches your attention. But, it doesn’t stop you from riding your King. You look over your shoulder and see a dumbfounded Sam watching your bare hips roll against the other man. His eyes are wide and his mouth is agape. You can feel him drink in your bare skin and you smirk to yourself. His eyes finally trail up your body and lock with your own. You give him a quick wink before returning your attention to the man beneath you. 

Now that you know you have an audience, you put on more of show. You throw your head back and moan as Crowley hits you in all the right place. 

“We should only be another minute. Mind waiting outside, Samantha?” Crowley asks with a strangled groan. 

You pout at your King. You want Sam to watch. 

“You know better than to give me that lip, kitten,” Crowley warns you. He grips your hair and pulls you forward so he can bite your protruding bottom lip. He draws blood and you moan with approval. 

By now Sam has seen enough. He staggers back out into the hall. He leans against the wall and sinks down onto the floor. He runs his fingers through his hair. This can’t be real. You’re dead. You’ve been gone for years. But he can still hear the mattress springs creak and the intoxicating sound of your cries. Those sounds inform him this is very real. You are very much alive. 

He knows he shouldn’t be sitting here listening to you. He should storm back into the room, pull you off the demon, and get some answers. But why can’t he move?

True to his word, you and Crowley only take another minute or two to finish up. 

“You can come back now, moose,” Crowley calls from within the room. 

Sam takes a moment to himself before going back inside. He takes deep breaths and pushes the hair out his face. He re-enters the room and his eyes fall on you instantly. A blissed out smile spreads across your bleeding lips. You are curled up in the bed. You’re laying on your stomach with the blanket covering your rounded ass. You are propped up on your elbows, giving Sam a sneaking glimpse of the curve of your breasts. But his attention is drawn to the small scar on your shoulder. It is the one you got the night you and Sam kissed for the first time. The night he truly lost you. 

You don’t look surprised to see him. Instead, your eyes rake over his body. You tilt your head as you think of all the things you want to do to him. 

Crowley clears his throat. Amidst yours and Sam’s staring contest, Crowley had gotten himself dressed. He adjusts his cufflinks and sits back on the bed beside you. He laughs at the hunger in your eyes as you watch Sam.

“You really are insatiable,” Crowley purrs in your ear. 

“I want a taste. Can’t you let me play with him for a little while?” You ask for permission.

Crowley shakes his head. “Something tells me this is a business call, isn’t that right moose?” Crowley turns his attention to the large uninvited guest. 

Sam doesn’t respond. He can only watch you. How are you alive? He held your dead body. He burned it. How are you here? Why are you here, and with Crowley of all people? Why didn’t you come back to him?

“No fair. You let me have the other one!” You complain. 

“That was a special treat. This one is off limits and you know it,” Crowley warns you. 

You hold his glare for a moment before you roll your eyes. “Fine. Whatever,” you relent as you get up from the bed. You let the blankets fall away. 

Sam has never seen this kind of confidence in you before. Your naked body strides right up to him. He is forcing himself to keep his eyes locked with yours. He doesn’t want his eyes wandering anywhere he knows they shouldn’t. But, the temptation is almost unbearable. 

You offer him a wicked smirk as you can see the painful restraint in his eyes. You play with the straps of his sling and almost beg him to look down. As you keep the entirety of his attention rapt on you, you look back up at him and your eyes flash black. Without a word, you answer all the questions burning inside him.

* * *

 

Dean fiddles with the ivory keys of the bar’s piano. He gets distracted by his own thoughts and pulls out the first blade. He cuts into his palm just to watch the skin heal itself seconds later. 

“Hiya Sam,” Dean says without having to look up. 

The brother’s reunion goes as well as expected. The pain in Sam’s eyes would be palpable to anyone with an intact soul. But Dean is not indifferent to his brother anguish, he is enjoying it. Dean laughs at Sam’s heartfelt determination to bring him home. 

Sam pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. 

“You really think those are going to work?” Dean mocks his brother’s effort. 

“You only brought one pair?” You voice breaks through the intense moment the brothers are sharing. “What about me? You didn’t forget about little old me again, did you Sammy?” You feign disappointment as you walk past Sam and stand next to Dean. You rest your head on his shoulder. “Somethings never change.”

Sam looks at empty shells in front of him. How could he let this happen, to either of you? Sam hadn’t forgotten about you. He never could have. He had every intention of going back for you. But, Crowley transported him out of the room seconds after you revealed your demon status. Crowley sent Sam away hoping that finding his brother would distract him from you. But, you weren’t quite done with Sam yet. You have a score to settle with him. So, you followed him here without Crowley’s permission. 

“Y/N, I-” Sam starts to say something but a smoke bomb bursts through the bar window and interrupts him. You and Dean watch as Sam chokes on the smoke and scrambles for air. Neither of you move to help him. 

Sam stumbles out of the bar and crumbles to the ground. Dean occupies itself with the new arrival of an unfit foe. The confrontation between the men looks more like a game of cat and mouse than a fair fight. But you don’t pay them much attention. You keep your focus on Sam. He is still sputtering for air and you love the pretty noises he makes when has in pain. 

“Is this why you liked hurting me when I was a human? Was  _ I  _ this fun to watch when I suffered?” You ask with genuine curiosity as you crouch down next to him. 

“I – I never wanted to hurt you,” he chokes out as he regains his ability to breathe. 

You grip his hair so he looks you in the eye. “Could have fooled me,” you say with pure venom. Then you smash his pretty face down onto the asphalt of the parking lot. He groans in pain and the deep sound send a volt of electricity to your core. 

You stand up and look down at him. He wipes the blood off his nose with the side of his hand. “Y/N, I can help you. There’s a cure!”

“I chose this. I’m not like Dean. I wasn’t made by accident. I willingly became who I was meant to be after I… well the  _ why  _ doesn’t matter. I’m happy,” you say with a genuine smile. 

“No, you’re not,” Sam says with earnest finality as he gets himself off the ground. He is staring into you as if he can still see into your darkest corners. Without a word, he is informing you of the simple fact you cannot hide from him. And, you want him to stop. 

You throw a punch and it lands across his jaw. “I am a goddamn Queen. People bow when I walk by. Crowley loves me. I have everything I need.” You don’t know why you have the need to convince him of such. But, you do. 

“Everything?” Sam raises an eyebrow up at you. “You may  _ have  _ everything, but can you even feel anything. What does it mean to have everything if you can’t?” Sam challenges you. “Crowley may love you, but are you even capable of loving him back when you’re like this?”

You smile at him and lift your chin. “You jealous of him again, Sammy? I’ve been meaning to ask… how is Kerry by the way? Are you two still smitten kittens in love? Dean told me you hit a rough patch a couple years back. I’ve been meaning to pay her a visit over the years but never got around to it.”

“You never answered my question,” Sam informs you. 

“You never answered mine,” you retort. 

You stare at each other for a long minute. Then you get distracted by Dean’s fight in the corner of your eye. You make the mistake of turning your head hoping to catch a glimpse of him going in for the kill. Sam takes this opportunity to reach into his back pocket and pull out his flask of holy water. He splashes it onto your face and your recoil with burning pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam says as he lunges forward. He cracks your head against the brick wall with enough force to knock your unconscious in one go. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats more for his own sake as he lowers your limp body onto the ground. 

Sam rushes back into the building to get the one pair of handcuffs he dropped when the bomb hit. He gets to his brother just in time. The demon grunts in pain and anger as Sam secures the cuffs around him and secures his fate.

Sam gets Dean into the backseat of the Impala and lays you down on the front seat next to him. Just then, Crowley appears. An anger is emanating off him in waves. 

“I ratted out your brother’s location so you could fix our  _ Dean  _ problem! She is not your concern. You lost your chance. You’re not taking her with you!” Crowley shouts as Sam comes to stand in front of him.

“Yes, I am,” Sam informs the King of the simple facts. He won’t let you go again. 

Crowley takes a step toward the car but finds he cannot open the door. It is not simply locked, there is something else going on. He looks through the window and sees your unconscious form sprawled out and helpless. Crowley attempts to break the glass but even with all his demonic strength, it refuses to shatter. 

He then hears Dean tapping on the back window. “He spelled the car, you idiot. It keeps demons in but also keeps them out. Sammy has been delving into the dark magic lately. You can’t get too her,” Dean informs Crowley with pure pleasure in his voice. Dean is pissed Crowley gave him up. He had even intention of killing the King when he got himself free from Sam. But watching Sam take Crowley’s Queen is better punishment. It’s worse than death. And Dean is enjoying every moment.

Crowley takes a step back and looks over to where Sam was. But he is gone. Sam had gotten back into the car, where Crowley cannot touch him. Crowley storms around to the driver’s side. 

“Release her,” the threat behind his demand is clear. 

“I’m going to cure her, Crowley. What she chooses to do after that is up to her. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Sam says as he turns over the engine. 

“You coward! Come out here and say that to my face!” Crowley shout as he once again tries to break Sam’s window. It is all in vain. After a few failed attempts, Crowley lowers his head. When he raises it again, Sam can see tears in the fearsome King’s eyes. He has never seen Crowley so hopeless. “Sam, please. Don’t do this,” Crowley pleads with pure desperation. All joking nicknames and rage filled threats are gone. Crowley isn’t beneath begging, not for you. “I love her,” Crowley implores Sam not to take his Queen.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.” Sam takes his foot of the break. He truly is sorry. He knows all too well the pain of losing you. He knows what this must be doing to Crowley. But this is for the best. 

What Sam fails to acknowledge, is that he is operating under the dubious assumption that what is best for  _ him _ , is also best for you. In reality, if he knew what was to come, he would leave you as you were. 

“You will regret this,” Crowley warns Sam. He doesn’t need to say anything more. Sam understands the bed he has just made for himself. He understands what it means to have Crowley as an enemy.

“Goodbye, Crowley.” Sam pulls away and leaves the King stranded alone in the parking lot. Dean turns around in his seat and waves to Crowley through the back windshield. Seeing Crowley’s desolation, Dean’s smile grows impossibly wide.

A furious growl escapes Crowley’s throat as the Impala peels away. Sam can only imagine the fate he has just sealed for himself. Crowley intends to hold this grudge until the day Sam dies. Until then, Crowley can do nothing but wait and hope for your return. He would wait forever.

* * *

 

You come to and realize you are strapped onto a wooden chair. You struggle against your restraints but stop when you hear a familiar voice beside you. 

“Finally, kid. How hard did Sammy hit you?” Dean asks with no hint of empathy, only curiosity. 

“Aw, were you worried about me?” You ask already knowing the answer. 

Dean’s eyes rake over your restrained form. “God, I wish I could have seen the look on his face when he found out you were alive.”

You giggle. “You know, he caught me in bed with Crowley.” You try rolling your hips despite your restraints.  

Dean bites his lip. “I bet you put on quite a show for him, Princess.” 

You smile to yourself. “That’s ‘Queen’ to you, Mr. Winchester.” You renounce your old nickname.

“No. You will always be my Princess,” Dean leers at you. 

Before you can respond, the dungeon doors swing open. “No talking,” Sam barks at the demons. 

“Holy shit,” you say as your smile widens. “We got the whole gang back together!” You jeer when you see Kerry trail behind Sam. “I’ve missed you the most,” you wink at her. 

“What the hell happened to you?” If you didn’t know any better, you would say there were hints of sadness and regret laced into Kerry’s question. 

“She sold her soul for your boyfriend,” Dean blurts out an answer before you can. 

“Dean!” You growl at him. You wanted to be the one to break the news. You wanted to do it at the right time, when it would inflict the most pain. 

Sam is pulled away from his task of preparing the blood when he hears Dean’s admission. “What is he-” Sam trails off. This can’t be true. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t have. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s been years, Sammy. You still have figured it out? I’m sure you didn’t think it was a coincidence that I died right as you miraculously recovered. But, I bet you probably didn’t want to make that connection. Out of sight out of mind.”

“I always knew,” Dean pipes up. Everyone turns to look at him. “Well, I always suspected,” Dean clarifies. “I didn’t know for sure until we ran into each other after I got my black eyes. But, a part of me always wondered before then. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want Sammy doing anything stupid to get you back.”

“So, human-you had every intention of letting me rot in hell?” you ask with slight offense but more curiosity. 

Dean shrugs. “You were fine.”

“You didn’t know that at the time! Classy,” you say as you roll your eyes again. You always knew Sam didn’t care about you. But, you always thought Dean did when he was human. If you were capable of having feelings, they would be hurt right now. Luckily, you don’t have that issue. 

As you and Dean have this discussion amongst yourselves, Sam still stares at you. His eyes are wide eyes with realization and his brows are crinkled with regret. He never let himself think about your death. After he found you in your hotel room, he went on autopilot. He never thought to deeply about the coincidental aspects of your death. If he let himself think about you at all, his mind would crumble into a grief induced heap of darkness. So, he kept his thoughts of you locked away. It is the only way he was able to survive your death. 

“Anyway, enough about me. Dean told me you two broke up a couple years back. I was very sorry to hear that. I really thought you crazy kids were going to make it.” You taunt the former couple. “What brings you back here, Kerry? Did you come back just to watch the freak show?”

“S-Sam called when he found you. He thought I’d want to be here. He thought I could help,” she says with a twinge of fear. She watches your carefree smile morph into one of amusement. Kerry has never seen you so detached. But also, she has never seen you so sure of yourself. 

“Well, that was his first mistake. Because when I get out of here, and I  _ will  _ get out of here, yours is the first throat I will slit,” you promise her. 

“You’re not going to get that chance,” Sam informs you as he hands Kerry and empty syringe. They each start to draw their own blood. This new information just makes Sam all the more determined to fix you.

You laugh. “Don’t you need purified blood for this cure to work. God, I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for your confessions. Tell me,” you look up at Kerry. She comes to stand over you and holds the needle at your neck, “Did my name make a cameo in your laundry list of sins?” 

The bruising force in which she plunges the sharp point into your neck gives you your answer. 

* * *

 

Your head is heavy. You don’t know how many rounds of treatment they have given you. You lost count. But you can feel it working. You know it is working because there is a gnawing sense of dread brewing within you. It is a sensation you haven’t felt in years. 

You feel someone standing in front of you. You lift your head expecting to see Sam or Kerry there, ready to administer the next round of treatment. Instead, you find Dean. He has somehow freed himself from his restraints.

“You remember the last time we were in this position?”

“Are you referring to when you had me all tied up and helpless? How could I forget?” You wink as you squeeze your thighs together at the memory. 

“We’ll have time for that later. Right now, what do you say we go have a little fun? Let’s go show those two how much we’ve missed them,” Dean offers. He unbuckles your restraints and holds out a hand for you to take. “Shall we?” 

Dean sets out on stalking Sam around the bunker. You split up because you want to stay true to your word. You made promise to Kerry, you intend to keep it. 

She wasn’t hard to find. She was making a break for the exit but hadn’t realized Sam put the bunker on lock down. 

“The years have not been kind to you,” you sing as you lean against the wall. Her hair doesn’t shine like it used to. You don’t know if it’s from the time that has passed or because you no longer look up to her. But, she doesn’t glow as brightly as you remember. 

She turns toward your voice. She looks for another escape plan but knows there is no way passed you. She must face you once and for all. “We burned your body. How are you-”

“You really think it would be that hard for Crowley switch the bodies before you burned it. Once you wrapped me in that god-awful motel sheet, you couldn’t see what you were actually burning. Turns out, me and the sweet little motel maid had similar meat suits,” you shrug. “I walked away charcoal free and she got deep fried.” 

“You’re a monster. I never should have come back here. You’re not worth it. You’re too far gone. I mean, you were always a freak. But now… now you’re just sick.” Kerry offers no sympathy for the devil. “You did this for Sam?” She asks with disbelief. “You became  _ this for _ him? How could you do that to yourself?” Her disbelief is morphing into disgust. She can’t imagine making that kind of sacrifice for another person. 

“I knew you wouldn’t get it. That’s why it had to be me. You know, I spent a lot of time asking myself ‘Why did he pick her?’ or ‘Why couldn’t it be me?’. But, I get it now. You two are made for each other.” You strut forward and start twirling the ends of her hair between your fingers. “You’re both clueless,” you bite out. “And, just like it didn’t even cross your mind to sacrifice yourself when he needed you…” you step back and pull a knife out of your back pocket. You slash the knife across her neck. “I bet it won’t cross his mind to save you either when he finds your body,” you smile down at her as she crumbles to the ground. 

She clutches her throat in a vain attempt to slow the bleeding wound. You stand there and watch her bleed out. It is not as satisfying as you envisioned. For years you pictured this moment. But now that it is here, it feels anti-climactic. You even feel a little bad for her. She went down so easily. She didn’t put up much of a fight or give you the challenge you were hoping for. Once again, she has failed you. She failed to live up to your expectations for a friend. And, she failed to live up to your expectations as a worthy victim. 

“What a waste,” you shrug. You turn and walk away before she is fully dead. She’ll be gone in less than minute. There is no point to stay and watch such a disappointment. 

You have more important things to focus on. It’s moose hunting season.

* * *

 

Dean can tell his brother is near. He can feel it. “Sammy, why don’t you come on out. I think we have some catching up to do. Come on, how about some bro time!”

Sam stands with his back against the next wall to stay hidden. His brother’s words are clear as day.

“I got to tell you, I don’t know why you ever turned that piece of ass down. Y/N is a freaking animal. You should’ve gotten in on that shit while you had the chance,” Dean licks his lips. He knows bringing you up will draw his brother out. You have been a sore subject ever since your supposed death. For years, your name has been the only way to break Sam out of his zombie-like state. 

Dean smiles as he sees Sam come around the corner. Worked like a charm. 

“I don’t believe you,” Sam says with defiance. 

Dean smiles and decides to twist the knife. He’s not lying and he wants Sam to know it. “Crowley has let her off her leash once or twice. She was my welcome to the dark side present. There is nothing she wouldn’t let me do to her. I mean, this one time, I had her tied down on all fours while I-”

“Stop! You’re a fucking liar! You’re just trying screw with me!” Sam interrupts his brother before Dean paints him a picture he can’t unsee. 

“No, he’s not,” you add as you come around the corner to stand behind Dean. You trial the pads of your fingers across his chest to emphasize your words.

“You loved her like a sister. You really expect me to believe you would let Crowley pimped her out to you!” Sam shouts at his brother. 

“That’s the thing, Sammy.” Dean eyes flash black. “When you’re like us, you don’t have to worry about things like  _ love _ . Isn’t that right, Princess?” Dean asks as he slaps your ass. 

You give him a hardened glare as he once again failed to address you properly. His nicknames are getting old. But he ignores you to keep talking. You find that Dean as a demon loves to hear himself talk. 

“That said, I wouldn’t let Crowley hear you talk about his little Queen like that. He’s killed for a lot less. One dude bumped into her in the hall and got an angel blade to the eye” Dean says with an impressed tone. “You’re already on his shit list for taking her. Don’t push your luck,” Dean warns his brother. 

“Speaking of Crowley, I should get home. He doesn’t like it when I’m out late. Can we get this over with?” You ask Dean. Your bored tone is jarring. It is as if the act of killing the man you once loved is as casual as brushing your teeth. 

“Have at it, Princess. But remember, I get the final blow!” Dean reminds you as he gestures in Sam’s direction.

Before you can take a step forward, two strong arms wrap around you. You kick against the person holding you. But, his strength is unparalleled. Dean lunges toward the angel griping you. Castiel gets knocked over by Dean and releases you. 

You stumble forward but before you can get your bearings, you feel a knife to your throat. You look over your shoulder. Sam presses the demon knife into your skin a little harder. 

“Do it,” you call his bluff. You lean into the knife so it draws a little blood. He won’t kill you and you both know it. You decide to make it easy for him. Maybe if you push him just enough, he’ll do it. “Haven’t seen Kerry lately. I hope she’s alright. Heaven forbid you find her by the garage door with her throat split wide open. That would just be terrible. Finding her in a pool of her own blood…” you suck in air through your teeth. “I know how much she meant to you. That would be a hard sight to unsee.”

Sam’s eyes widen with realization then quickly narrow with anger. “You didn’t,” Sam says in denial. 

“I did,” you smile with accomplishment. 

Sam grips your hair and starts dragging you back to the dungeon. He is done with your games. He trusts Cas to handle Dean. Right now, he needs to focus on you. 

Sam gets you back to the dungeon. His anger has increased his strength and his determination. He is able to keep you under control, even with one arm wrapped in his sling. He pushes you back into the devil’s trap, despite the fact it can no longer hold you thanks to the cure. Sam in on you in a minute. He replaces the leather restraints on your chair with metal chains. 

“If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask,” you purr at him as he gets you settled down. 

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t say a word. He jabs you in the neck with another dose of the cure. He starts in on the Latin incantation and doesn’t stop, even once you start to convulse. 

The fear that this cure may be killing you is overpowered by his need to get you back. He can’t let you live like this. You, the real you, would never want this. This is his fault. You died to save him. And he will do anything to save you.

* * *

 

It has been days. Dean had been cured shortly after Cas got him back to the dungeon. But your recovery is taking longer. It’s as if your body refuses to heal. A few days ago, Sam removed your chains. You’re too weak to try and escape again. You just lay curled up on the floor. He brought you a blanket but it doesn’t do much to stifle your shiver. 

“Something is wrong,” Sam breathes out as Cas comes to stand next to him. Sam hasn’t slept in days. He hasn’t left your side. Your eyes remain pure ebony. Sam refuses to rest until he sees them sparkle with humanity. 

“I’ve been trying to tell you for days, Sam. She cannot handle the transition. Her heart is too weak to cope with the cure. Her disease has only gotten worse over the years. But, she hasn’t been able to feel its effects. The demonic essence inside her is the only thing keeping her alive. If you keep taking that away, there will be nothing left.” Cas repeats what Sam has refused to hear since the beginning of your end. 

“S-Sam,” you plead with him as your eyes flash back to their usual colour, but they are still missing that shimmer. You try to sit up and Sam rushes to your side in an instant. He has no fear you will hurt him. You both know you couldn’t even if you wanted to. But as the cure takes hold, you’re not sure you would even want to anymore. 

Cas leaves the room to give you two some privacy. He knows this is the end, even if Sam refuses to admit it. It’s time for Sam to say goodbye. 

“Sam, I need you to finish it. Finish the cure.” Your command comes out a desperate plea. 

“You heard Cas. It will kill you,” he says as he scoops you off the ground and into his arms. 

“I’m dead either way. Either you cure me and I die from the toll it takes on my heart. Or, I stay a demon and you’re forced to kill me before I hurt anyone else. Please, I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I want to die a human, Sam. I’m tired of being a monster.” You have just enough of the cure inside you. You to see your reality clear enough to make the right decision. 

“I don’t know if I can do it. I lost you once and it almost killed me. I can’t do that again. I need you. I don’t know why it took me so long to see it, but I love you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You try to push away from him. It’s too late for that. You’re too far gone. He shouldn’t love you. He is a good man. And, you are a killer. After everything you’ve done, now more than ever, you don’t deserve his love. “I killed Kerry,” you start to tear up as you think about what your inner demon did to your best friend. 

Sam tears up too but won’t let you wiggle out of his grasp. “I know… I know. No matter what happened, I know you loved her. She knew it too.”

“I killed her!” You remind him. 

“And I killed you. But I still love you. We don’t always treat those we love with the care we should. But we never stop loving them,” Sam says as he holds you tighter.

“You didn’t kill me. I chose this. And, I’d do it again. I’d do anything for you,” the truth slips out of your mouth. After all this time, and after all the terrible things you’ve done to each other, you still love him. 

Black eyes could never truly quell that love. You buried it deep enough until it morphed into hate but the foundations remained pure. You have always loved him. But you were never meant to have him. 

“Can you do me a favour? Can you tell Crowley thank you? He was there for me when I needed him. What I felt for him was different. I couldn’t feel genuine love as demon, but I think I did love him in my own weird way. I never thanked him or showed him how much he truly meant to me. But I need him to know. Since I can’t say goodbye to him myself,” fresh tears roll down your cheeks, “then I need you to promise me you’ll tell him.”

“I promise,” Sam says as he lowers his forehead onto yours. He intends to keep that promise. Despite their differences, a part of Sam will always be grateful to Crowley. He cared for you when Sam couldn’t, or wouldn’t. Crowley deserves to know how you felt about him. 

Sam shift his position so his lips graze against yours. You use your weak fingers to pull him down closer. The kiss is a desperate goodbye. He once again clambers to your taste. He takes this last chance to drink in every part of you and commit this moment to memory. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter but doesn’t pull away from you. He reaches into his back pocket. Without breaking the kiss, he sticks the syringe into your raw neck. He delivers your final dose. 

When he feels you gasping for air, he lets your lips fall from his for the last time. He looks you in the eyes. He lets out a silent sob as the twinkling light of humanity returns to you. Your thankful smile fades as you slip away. Just like last time, it feels like you’re falling asleep. You tell yourself you are simply falling asleep in the arms of the man you love. And, when you wake up you can start your life together. That thought gives you peace as your eyes flutter shut for the last time.

  
  



	6. The Lost Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Chapters 4 and 5. Thank you for commissioning this fic! I loved revisiting this series to drop another pound of angst.

_ Sam wakes up in a hospital room all alone. His first thought is of you. Your face plagued his unconscious mind the entire time he was out. He was forced to re-experience the pain he saw in your eyes when you realized he had been hurt.  He was hoping you’d be here when he woke up so he could reassure you he is fine. He wants to ease the worry that scrunched your brow and quivered you’re lip. But, he’ll just have to wait until you come back. _

_ As Sam waits for someone to realize he’s awake, confusion starts to lace his features. The memories of what happened rush back into his mind. He should be dead. His first thought is that his brother did something stupid to bring him back. But, the slight pain in his back tells him he is not fully healed. If Dean made a deal, then his wound would be gone. His back hurts less than he expected it would. But, he chalks it up to good pain meds. _

_ A strange realization washes over Sam. You are his first and only thought after he woke up, not Kerry. The thought of seeing you again and making sure you’re alright is his priority, nothing else. He is just now understanding how telling that is.  _

Sam smiles when he hears the door to his room open. His smile falters for a moment when he sees Dean enter alone. He was hoping you’d be with him. But, he is still thankful to see his brother. 

Dean lets out the breath of relief he has been dying to release. Dean hadn’t been able to breathe as he paced the waiting room. When the doctor came tell him Sam had been transferred to a private room, Dean expected the worst. But walking in to see Sam’s bright smile loosens the tightening in Dean’s chest. Seeing his brother awake and sitting up, makes a lump form in his throat and tears fill his eyes. But Dean chokes down his joy to save face. He doesn’t want to worry his brother by letting on how close of a call it was. 

“Sammy, I swear to god! If you keep almost dying from stab wounds to the back, I’m going to kill you!” Dean says as he strides to his brother’s bedside. 

Sam smiles at his brother contradictory threat. “Nice to see you too,” Sam laughs but stops himself when the action makes his back hurt. The pain isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but it’s still noticeable. 

Dean wants to wrap his arms around Sam and feel his living breath against his shoulder. He needs that reassurance. But he holds back.  Dean doesn’t want to jostle his brother and aggravate his wound more than necessary. He can’t trust himself not to capture Sam in a bone crushing hug. Dean thought for sure he was a goner. The doctors did too. They told Dean and Kerry to ‘prepare for the worst’. 

Dean came into Sam’s room to say goodbye. He was going to say goodbye then find the nearest crossroads. He had to make this right. He couldn’t let his little brother die on such a run-of-the-mill hunt. That is not how Sam is supposed to go out. Sam deserves a triumphant end.   

Dean knew it was a long shot that any demon would deal with a Winchester. But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. So, imagine Dean’s surprise when he walks in to find his brother not only alive, but sitting up and smiling. 

Dean doesn’t believe in miracles. Dean believes in deals. 

He clenches his jaw. Dean is thankful for his brother’s  _ miraculous  _ recovery. But, he doesn’t think there is anything coincidental about it. You have been AWOL for hours. Dean tried calling you a little while after you left, but his call went straight to voicemail. He tried calling again when the doctor said Sam was out of surgery. Once again, he got no reply. 

You are the only other person stupid enough to make a deal. Dean knows you are the only other person who loves Sam enough to give everything up. Now, you are unreachable and Sam is seemingly fine. That can’t be a coincidence. 

Dean keeps that thought to himself for now. There is no use worrying Sam over mere speculation.  

Right now, Dean has to focus on his brother. He’ll deal with you, and your wonderful stupidity, later. He hopes he is wrong. He doesn’t think he is, but he hopes anyway.  

“Hey Dean,” Sam looks over his brother’s shoulder. “Where is she?” Sam asks not bothering to stifle the eagerness in his voice. 

“She’s on her way in. She stopped to ask the doctor something. That son of a bitch put the fear of god in us. He’s a real pessimist. But I guess I can’t be too mad at him if he saved your life,” Dean says with a forced smile.  He buries his suspicions that  _ you  _ may have actually been the true savour. “Crap! I should probably go tell them you’re awake! Has the doctor seen you yet?” Dean asks with wide eyes. 

Dean doesn’t wait for Sam to respond before he turns on his heal to leave the room. He needs the find the doctor so he can confirm everything is fine. Before Dean reaches the door, it opens. Dean turns back to his brother. 

“Speak of the devil and she doth appear. Ask and you shall receive! Here she is, Sammy. I’ll go get the doctor. Go easy on him,” Dean says to Kerry who just walked through the door. He is in such a good mood right now, he even kisses her temple before rushing out of the room. 

The hope that brewed in Sam’s chest dimmed slightly. He realizes there was a misunderstanding. Dean assumed Sam was asking about Kerry and not you. Of course, he is happy to see his girlfriend. But, Sam would be lying if he said he wasn’t little disappointed when it wasn’t you who walked through his door. He plasters a believable smile on his face. He doesn’t want to admit what that disappointment may actually mean for his relationship. He isn’t ready to have that conversation yet.  

Kerry stands in the doorway in a state of shock. Her wide eyes are glued onto her boyfriend. She is trying to understand what she is seeing. He’s fine. She just spoke to the doctor in the hall and he was even less optimistic than before. But Sam is fine. 

Kerry rushes across the room and throws herself onto his bed. She is much less careful than Dean was trying to be. Sam bites back a grunt of discomfort as she jostles his wound upon impact. There is a lot of momentum behind her tiny frame. Sam wraps her in his arms as she curls into his side. She feels nice and familiar against him. But now, it feels as though something is missing. 

The doctor was just as surprised as everyone else. He told Sam he needs to stay in the hospital for a few more days until he is out of the woods. Naturally, the youngest Winchester refuses to listen to that advice. They slip out of the hospital in the middle of the night. They leave before anyone asks too many questions about how or why he got stabbed. Dean wants Sam to stay but knew it was useless to push the issue. 

The real reason Sam wanted to leave was because he needs to find you. Dean and Kerry weren’t giving him full and proper responses when he asked where you were. They gave vague answers that only solidified Sam’s belief that they didn’t know where you had gone. 

Dean texted you to tell you Sam was going to be fine but never got a response. Your radio silence is unsettling to Dean. But he still doesn’t voice his suspicions. 

Sam remembers you had gotten hurt during the attack. You were dragged down a flight of stairs and beaten. Why the hell didn’t those two at least check up on you? You could be seriously hurt. 

Sam knows you. You wouldn’t have gotten help for your injuries unless someone was there to force you to go to the hospital. You especially would not look after yourself if you thought you were the cause of Sam’s injuries. The thought of you stewing in your own hurt for his sake breaks Sam’s heart. This wasn’t your fault. He chose to save you. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He would willingly pay any consequence. 

* * *

 

You and Crowley are still in your motel room. You had made the deal two days ago. You hadn’t left the room since. Crowley took that time to teach you the extent of your new power. You did take breaks every now and again. You spent years fighting demons as a hunter. You always found their inhuman strength and unrelenting stamina to be a nuisance. However, now that you sport a pair of black eyes, you’re using those abilities to your advantage. 

Now that you walk among them, you understand why demons always look like they are having so much fun. You use your new capabilities to show your new King just how much you appreciate his generous deal. 

You hear the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. You get off the bed and peak through the closed curtains. You roll your eyes. 

“Took them long enough! You know, if I was really dead, they would have themselves a real problem. My rotting body would be stinking up this joint long before any of them bothered to come find me.” Your pouting is insincere. 

You don’t actually care that it took them so long to look for you. You don’t care about anything. Your indifference is freeing. The old you would have cried about their inconsiderate behaviour for weeks. But the new you could not care less. You just want to get this over with so you can move on to better things. 

Crowley comes up behind you and kisses your shoulder. You lean into him and grind your backside against him. He tsks you. “There’s no time for that, Pet. Get dressed. They will be storming the gates any second. They need to find you tucked in bed, as if you passed in your sleep. They cannot find you naked and bent over my knee. That would be a dead giveaway. And, that was not the deal.” Crowley pats your bare bottom to get you moving. 

“Screw the deal!” You turn in his hold and wrap your arms around his neck. You no longer care if they find out you sold your soul. You just want your King. 

Crowley pulls away and shakes his head. “You know the rules. Make a deal, keep it. I made this deal with human-you. Demon-you cannot persuade me to changes the terms. Get dressed,” the demand in his voice makes you squirm. 

You shake your head and give him a wicked smile. You’re hoping your defiance will lead to a punishment or two. 

Crowley raises a brow at you. “You want to do this the hard way,” it’s not a question. He knows you well enough to know that you won’t make this easy for him. Your stubborn nature only intensified as the black took over your soul. 

Crowley snaps his fingers and you are fully dresses. You pair your hardened glare with an annoyed huff. He ignores you as he drags you over to the bed. 

“This room smells like sex. You can dress me up and make me look as dead as you want. But, they’re not  _ that  _ stupid. They’ll be able to sniff out the stench of sin. They’ll know something is up.” You try convincing him to let this stupid part of the deal go. It would take a lot less effort if you were to simply disappear together. 

Crowley just smiles at you. “Why don’t you let me handle the details, darling. You just be a good girl and lay back.” He lowers you onto the bed. “Now, play dead, Pet.”

Crowley kisses your lips once last time before you fall into darkness. Crowley knew he couldn’t let you stay conscious. The temptation for you to mess with your former family would be too great. You’d start giggling or jump up to scare them once they think you’re dead. The demon inside you would not be able to resist the temptation. 

Crowley loves your newfound mischievous nature. He loves that you feel free enough to have a little fun for once in your life. But, Crowley is a man of his word. They need to believe you are dead. So, he knocked you out with a drowsy kiss. He’ll wake you up after he switches the bodies. But for now, the Winchesters need to believe you are gone for good. He has to fulfil the deal. 

With a snap of his fingers, the room is cleaned up. It is as if he was never here. The musky scent you were complaining about is gone. The clothing and linen that was strewn across the floor is picked up and put away in an instant. However, Crowley can’t help but leave a small calling card on your nightstand. 

Crowley looks at your helpless looking body on the bed. He knows you’re not dead but it still pains him to see you like this. He does not envy what the Winchesters are about to walk in on. They do not have the luxury of knowing this is a hoax. 

Crowley hears the door knob jiggle as the Winchesters pick the lock from the outside. Crowley looks back at you. He hates the idea of leaving you, even if it is only for a short while. You didn’t deserve this. You were one of the good ones. But you threw that all away for the lumbering oaf you once loved, back when you were capable of love.

New demons are the purest. They see things through the lens of apathy. Crowley has been around a long time. So, he’s gotten reacquainted with his human side. He is able to admire beauty and feel certain emotions, even love. He knows you are not at that stage yet. It may take a life time or two for you to remember how to love. But he can wait. Crowley would wait for you forever. 

“He never deserved you,” Crowley whispers as he kisses your forehead.

* * *

 

Dean hasn’t even quieted Baby’s engine before Sam springs out of the car. Kerry yells for him to take it slow but he doesn’t listen. He needs to know you’re okay. He knocks on your motel door but gets no reply. He starts picking the lock. 

Sam finally gets the door open. The room is dark. He flicks on the light and sees you curled up in your bed. Your back is to him but at least you are here. At least you haven’t run off and left him again. He still has a chance to explain himself. 

His sigh of relief is cut short when you do not wake up at his intrusion. You are a light sleeper. Your hunter instincts make you ready to pounce at the slight creak of a floor board. But Sam had barged into your room and made quite a ruckus. So, why are you moving? Why won’t you wake up?

Sam is afraid to take a step toward you. He is afraid to confirm his worst fear. He stays in the doorway and wills you to wake up on your own. Dean and Kerry catch up to Sam but stop in their tracks when they too see you are unmoving. 

You should be moving. You should wake up and yell at them. You should tell them they are assholes. Yell at them to leave you alone so you can go back to sleep. Fight. Scream. Blame. But you aren’t doing any of those things. You aren’t moving. You aren’t waking up. You aren’t giving them a piece of your mind. You are completely still. 

Sam takes the dreaded step forward. He clears his throat and calls out to you. Your name is broken on his tongue and he can taste his own fear. 

Sam hovers over the side of your bed. With a shaky hand, he turns you over. 

His knees buckle beneath him as he crumbles to the floor. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand. He is barely able to choke down the bile encroaching in his throat. He can swallow his retch but he cannot swallow his tears. 

When he turns you over, your eyes are wide open and murky. You stare right through him with empty clouds. Your once bright eyes are now muted into a dull glass. 

Your skin is cold. The entire room is cold. Sam now feels like that draft will follow him for the rest of his life. There can be no warmth without you. 

Sam gets off the floor and climbs onto the bed beside you. He pulls your limp body into his arms. You don’t resist. You don’t do anything. You are finally in his arms but it is too late. He let you die alone. He wasn’t here to save you. He wasn’t even here to hold you while it happened. He rests his forehead onto yours. He lets his tears drip onto your cheek as he thinks about how alone you must have felt in your last moments.

Sam lets your emanating cold settle into his bones. He knows he should start getting used to it. That chill will never go away now. He clings to you as if he can transfer his warmth. He holds you as if he can give you life by sheer force of will. 

He scoops you up and puts you in his lap as he rests against the headboard. He buries his face into the crook of your clammy neck. Tears stream from his eyes and splash onto your skin. His tears trail down your chest and get soaked up by your bloodstained shirt. The blood on your shirt is Sam’s. You hadn’t even had time to change after you left the warehouse. 

He doesn’t know how long you have been gone. He doesn’t even know if it was your disease or your injuries that claimed you. He has many questions but no answers. The uncertainty will only add to his inability to accept his loss. 

Dean steps forward as tears cloud his vision. He loved you. After Sam, you were the most important person in his life. You were the little sister he would never admit to wanting. 

When Sam turned you over, Dean expected you would be torn apart by hellhounds. But aside from your old injuries, there isn’t a scratch on you. For a second, Dean believes this may actually be due to natural causes. But then he remembers that hunters never get to go in their sleep. 

Dean’s eyes flicker to a small red flower resting on the nightstand. It is the same one Crowley sometimes wears in his lapel. Dean squeezes his eyes shut to rid his rims of the pooling tears. He wipes his hand down his face and steels himself. 

That only strengthens Dean’s belief in your wonderful stupidity. 

“S-Sammy, come on.” Dean says as he stands next to the bed. He puts a hand on Sam’s shaking shoulder. He wishes he could ease his little brother’s pain but he doesn’t know how. There is no fixing this. 

With subtle movements, Dean takes the flower off the nightstand. He crumbles it up as he shoves it into his back pocket. He doesn’t want Sam to see it and figure out who may have left it there. He doesn’t want Sam to draw any unwarranted connections.

“No,” Sam grumbles and it reminds Dean of the defiant child he raised. The scared and lonely child who never caught a break. 

Dean nods and looks back to Kerry. She is leaning against the door with her face buried in her hands. Despite your differences, you were still her best friend. You both let a guy come between your special friendship. 

Kerry always assumed you would work things out eventually. You would apologize. She would apologize. You’d move on and things would go back to normal. But now that opportunity is lost forever. She cannot make this right. You can never bury the hatchet. That hatchet she used to stab you in the back will be forever coated in your blood. 

Dean walks over to the distraught woman and gives her the comfort Sam is unable to spare. “You alright, kid?” Dean asks through the lump in his throat. He knows it is a stupid question. But he can’t think of anything else to say. He hates having to be the calm one right now. All three of them are plagued with different degrees of guilt and grief. Dean wants nothing more than to wallow in his, but he doesn’t have that luxury. His brother needs a rock. Even Kerry needs a strong guiding hand. 

Kerry wipes her tears and swallows her grief. “Fine. I am fine,” she says in an eerily convincing tone. She looks past Dean to where her boyfriend still cradles you in his arms. Kerry hates herself for letting a pang of jealousy rise within her. But the distress and attention Sam is giving your lifeless body is irritating her. She knows it is selfish but she wants Sam to comfort her. She wants to work through your death as a couple. But Sam hasn’t even spared her a glance. 

Sam tightens his arms around you and stares blankly into your hollow eyes. He watches you intently. He is waiting. He is waiting to see your muscles twitch or your head lull as you wake up from this nightmare. But you never do. 

“There is a wooded clearing a few miles out of town. I saw it on our way in. I can drive out there and start setting up,” Kerry offers. 

_ That _ catches Sam’s attention. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“For the funeral. We have to send her off right,” Kerry responds. “We don’t know how long she’s been here like this. We have to give her a proper funeral. If nothing else, she was a good hunter. She deserves a pyre.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘if nothing else’?” Dean asks with an accusatory tone. There is a hint of disgust in his voice as well. You were a devoted friend. Whatever drama you had should not take away from that. 

“Come on, Dean. We can’t idolize her just because she’s gone. She would be the first to admit she was flawed. She made mistakes. She almost got Sam killed! You yourself were ready to rip her a new one if Sam didn’t make it! Don’t act like I am a bitch just because I don’t look back on her life with rose coloured glasses. She hurt people.” Kerry defends herself.

“Enough!” Sam shouts as he gets off the bed with you secured in his arms. “You are talking like she’s gone for good! You don’t need to ‘look back on her life’. Her life isn’t over yet! She’s not done. We’re not done!” Sam adjusts your dead weight in his arms. His denial is pure but not contagious.

“Sam, no!” Dean cuts off his brother’s thought before he can even voice it. “She wouldn’t want this!”

“I don’t care what she wants! I’m not letting her go!” Sam says in utter defiance. 

“You have to,” Kerry whispers in a placating tone. “Give her to Dean. We’ll take care of her.”

Dean takes a step forward. Sam takes a step backwards. He looks to his brother with pleading eyes. “Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give her up. Don’t make me say goodbye,” Sam begs. “Let me talk to Crowley! He’s her friend. He will want to help. I’ll get a good deal.”

“Sam, the state you’re in right now, any deal you’re offered will be a  _ good deal  _ for you. They could offer you a week instead of ten years and you’d take it. But think about her. Y/N would want you to do this! You of all people know the burden of being saved by a deal. She went peacefully. That is more than any hunter can even hope for. Don’t take that away from her.” Dean tries to reason with his brother. 

Dean leaves out the fact that you cannot undo a deal by making another. But his brother has yet to make that connection so Dean keeps his mouth shut. 

Dean and Kerry watch Sam with bated breath. He has to make up his own mind. Sams looks down at you and nods. He agrees to let you go. He knows it would be selfish to bring you back now. He’ll let you rest. You’ve earned your place in heaven. Even if it kills him, he has to let you stay there. 

Dean is unsure if Sam is intentionally denying the possibility you sold your soul.  What is more likely is that even after all this time, Sam still doesn’t realize just how much you loved him. After everything that happened, Sam still doesn’t see it. He still does not realize how willingly you would walk into any fire for him.

* * *

 

“I’ve always wanted to go to my own funeral. Although, it’s not quite the turn out I was expecting,” you say as you and Crowley watch ‘your’ body burn from a safe distance. Kerry and the Winchesters gather around the smoky pyre. No one says a word. There is no reminiscing. No crying. No parting speeches. They all stand there watching you char with blank expressions on their faces. “This is anticlimactic,” you pout. 

“What were you expecting? Were you expecting the moose to throw himself onto the fire and burn with you? I told you Pet, he is beneath you.” There is no jealousy in Crowley’s voice. He knows one day you will let go of the youngest Winchester and realize your own worth. Crowley moves in behind you and wraps his arms around you. He puts his chin on your shoulder and whispers his next words. “A Queen such as yourself should not be concerned with such insolence. What do you say we get out of here? You have a whole new world to experience. This is only the beginning.”

You turn in his hold and play with his tie. You look up at him through your lashes and smile. “Lead the way, my King,” you purr. Under Crowley’s stare, the funeral behind you is forgotten. Your former family is a distant memory from a past life. The man you once loved is nothing more than a catalyst that launched you into your new life. You would thank him, if you were capable of gratitude. 

However, you are not quite finished with Sam yet. You want to say goodbye.

* * *

 

Sam waits with you until the fire dwindles and the smoke turns white. Neither Dean nor Kerry dare to move him. Without a word, Sam turns and walks back to the Impala. Kerry steps in to take his hand but Sam’s pace quickens and he brushes her hand away. 

Dean hangs back for a moment. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small red flower he took off your nightstand. He tosses it onto your pyre and hangs his head. “Thank you,” he whispers. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

Back at the motel, no one knows what to do now. They stay in town for a few more days. They barely leave the room. The idea of finding another case seems trivial. The idea of falling into their old routine seems impossible. Even though they have not hunted with you in a long time, it still doesn’t feel right to pick up where they left off. Something is missing. Something will always be missing. 

“I’m going to the bar.” Dean says as he grabs his jacket. He waits an extra minute to see if anyone will want to join him. 

Kerry looks back at Sam. He hasn’t moved from his place on the bed in over two days. “I’ll go too.” Kerry is tired of watching Sam mourn another woman. She tells herself that he is mourning his friend. But, Kerry too lost a friend and she is still able to function. Sam hasn’t spoken, showered, or moved since your funeral. She tells herself to be patient but patience often loses out against suspicion.

Once Dean and Kerry are gone, Sam gets out of bed. He crosses the parking lot and enters your room. Sam had bought out the room for the next week and paid the front desk to keep maid service away. That wasn’t an issue because the hotel maid hadn’t shown up for work in a few days. 

Sam comes to your room every night. He waits until Dean and Kerry fall asleep. Then, he comes to lie in your bed. The sheets are always cold and unwelcoming. Your scent has faded from the pillow case but that doesn’t stop him from searching it out. 

The only time he is able to sleep is when he is in the bed you died in. He lets himself sleep because when he is here, he dreams of you. They are vivid and unrelenting dreams. He can feel you, smell you, and taste you. He lies in the bed and waits. He waits for you to come. 

Sam’s heavy eyes strain open. The dream is the same every night. He wakes up in this motel room to find you sitting at the foot of the bed. You never speak. You never answer his questions. You never let him touch you. You simply watch him. 

He stopped trying to engage with you. He is content just to watch you watch him. You sit in silence until the sun comes up and you disappear. At first, Sam thought you were a ghost. He looked for anything you may have attached yourself to. But nothing you used to own had any serious significance to you. You were a true nomad. The only thing that mattered to you was your makeshift family. And, they had betrayed you.

But tonight’s dream is different. You crawl up the bed and straddle Sam’s lap. You feel so real. He can feel your weight resting on his thighs. He can smell the sweet scent of your old shampoo. He can feel your warmth, something he thought he would never experience again. 

He wants to say something but every word gets caught in his throat. He wants to beg to you to stay. He wants to apologize for letting you go alone. But all he can do is feel you. He gets lost in the vividness of your presence. 

“One of these night, you’re going to have to stop sleeping in this bed. It’s kind of morbid, even for you Sammy. At the very least, you should wash these nasty sheets,” you tease him. 

“If I stop coming here, will you come with me wherever I go?” Sam begs the illusion of you. 

You bite your lip in contemplation. “No can do. I’m done following in your shadow. It’s time we say goodbye.”

“Don’t leave,” Sam pleads as he grabs onto your hips and pulls you down onto him further. 

A wicked and unfamiliar smile spreads across your face. If Sam wasn’t so lost in your touch, he would have seen the darkness in your eyes. But as you roll your hips against him, Sam can only see stars.  

Sam tries kissing you but you push him back. “Why do you only ever want me when you can’t have me?” you ask the desperate man beneath you. 

“I’ve always wanted you. But I-”

You cut Sam off by putting a hand over his throat and pinning him to the headboard. “Don’t lie to me.” Your grip tightens more than it should. “I knew exactly what I was to you. I knew my place. And it was never by your side.” You release his throat and sit back as he gasps for air. “But, that’s alright. It all worked out for the best,” you shrug. 

“For the best? You’re dead!” Sam shouts at you. He is angry at his own blinded stupidity. He is angry at himself for being unable to save you. He is also a little angry at you. You weren’t supposed to leave him so soon. 

“True, but now we both have what we wanted. You have Kerry. And I have… a new perspective,” you say so you don’t give anything away. You want him to think this is still just a dream. That way, he won’t try and disrupt your new life. “Speaking of, you really should have gone to the bar. Kerry won’t be feeling so lonely tonight, if you know what I mean.” You wink at Sam. 

“I don’t care!” Sam says as he clings to you. 

“Well then, the fact you don’t care that your little girlfriend is dry humping some bar fly right now, speaks volumes. You ditched her to hang out with a dead girl. You’ve always been a little behind so I won’t be surprised if it takes you a while to pick up the meaning of that message.” 

“I know what it means,” Sam informs you.

“Maybe, but it’s a little late in the game for a change of heart. You made your bed and so did I. Might as well make the most of it and move on. It’s just too bad we made separate beds. It would have been fun to push them together and rumple some sheets.” You offer him a coy smile and a shrug. “Oh well, what’s done is done.”

You force his hands off you and get up from his lap. He reaches for you again but you step back. You smile at him. It is not warm and comforting nor is it wicked and laced with malice. Your smile is one of indifference. The kind of smile you give to an old acquaintance you pass on the street. You are finished with him. 

“It’s been fun… for the most part. But we both have other shit to do now. See you around, Mr. Cash.” You offer a curt wave then disappear. 

With that flippant goodbye, you are gone. Sam never gets a chance to say goodbye. He comes back to that motel room for the next few nights but you never show. You never come back to him. He doesn’t know if you were a dream or a hallucination. You felt so real in his arms. He got a taste of having you back. He doesn’t care if he spends the rest of his life alone with you in that dingy motel room. He would hide away with the ghost of your memory forever. But, you never came back for him. 

He waited for you. Dean eventually caught on to where his brother was running off to every night. When Dean tried getting him to stop, Sam made the mistake of telling Dean and Kerry about you. He told them everything. He said he wanted to stay, just in case you came back. 

Kerry wasn’t fond of being a third wheel in her own relationship. Your illusion took precedence over their reality. Once upon a time, you brought the couple together. But Sam’s ‘excessive’ grief and preoccupation with your memory drove them apart. 

Kerry left Sam when he refused to come back to her. He was no longer the man she knew. He was a shell of sorrow. She told him to call her if he ever needed anything. She said she would always be there for him but she was gone before dawn broke. 

Dean stands in the doorway of your motel room. He watches his brother drown. 

“Enough, Sammy. We’re going home. We’ve been here a week. I’ve let this go on too long,” Dean strides across the room and pulls his brother out of the bed. 

Sam protests. The large man puts up a good fight. But he hasn’t been eating or sleeping in the past few days. So, Dean easily forces the younger man into the passenger seat of his car. Dean peels out of the parking lot and leaves this forsaken town behind. 

After a long while of tense silence, Dean turns on the radio. He rolls his eyes and smacks the steering wheel when he realizes what song is playing. Out of every song on the planet, Johnny Cash’s ‘She Used to Love Me A Lot’ starts blaring through the speakers of the car. 

Dean reaches to turn off the music. He knows you and Sam had those cute nicknames for each other. Dean doesn’t want to trigger another spiral. 

But Sam reaches over and stops his brother.  To Dean’s surprise, Sam turns up the volume. That is something he has never done before. 

“Let it play,” Sam says as he rests his head back on the seat.  

  
  



	7. The Prequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the pilot. The Reader comes to Sam’s aid after spending four years apart. The cycle of love and rejection resets and we see the lengths she is willing to go to heal the man she loves.

_ 2005 _

Your phone rings in the middle of the night. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to ignore it. You just finished a strenuous ghoul hunt. You spent the past two days crawling through the tunnels the creature dug out underneath the local cemetery. Even once you finally found him, he didn’t go down without a fight. The quick bastard was more agile than you anticipated. You don’t remember ghouls being so tricky. You have only hunted a ghoul once before. But that was back when you had backup. Hunting is a lot harder to manage on your own. But after your parents died, you did not have much of a choice. You hope to avoid any more ghoul cases in the near future. 

Needless to say, you are exhausted. The back to back hunts keep you busy. They keep you on your toes and ready. But, they also drain you mentally and physically. Without a hunting partner, the weight of responsibility falls on you, and you alone. The lives of the locals, the victims. The research. Finding, killing, and disposing of the monsters. It’s all on you. It is a lot to take. It is a lot for your heart to take. But it’s your job. You have to do it. 

You relish these rare moments in which you can finally catch up on your sleep. So, when you are finally able to let your mind and body recharge, you are not too happy when your phone wakes you up.

This is the first deep sleep you have had in months. You had every intention of dropping your ringing phone in a cold cup of water. However, there was a gnawing twist in your lower stomach that told you to answer this call.

“What?” You groan into the receiver. You may have answered the phone, but you never said you’d be happy about it. 

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice whispers in reply. You shoot straight up in your bed. That was never the voice you were expecting to hear. But, it is the voice you needed to hear. 

You haven’t heard from Dean in years. Your parents and John used to hunt together. Which means, Dean was your glorified babysitter more often than not. But, he was more than that. Growing up, Dean was the only one who actually cared about raising you. He was the only one who made sure you had enough food to eat and got to school on time. Hearing his voice again brings you back to a time in which you actually felt a part of a family. 

Your own family had no use for you until you learned how to shoot. With your heart condition, you were the weakest link. You only held them back, and they told you such. Your parents did not put you on the sidelines out of love. They didn’t do it to keep you safe. They kept you out of the way so they wouldn’t have to waste time picking up your slack. But, the Winchesters never knew about your heart condition. Your parents didn’t want their sympathy. So, the boys never knew you were sick, they never saw you as less than. They treated you as their equal. You needed that. 

Dean was your guide and Sam was your rock. Dean kept you fed and protected. But, Sam was the one who kept you sane. He made you laugh. He made you feel like a regular kid. Dean never understood what you two were always laughing about, but it was constant. Sam would send you spiralling into a fit of giggles. It would set off a train reaction until all three of you were in stitches for no apparent reason.  

It got to the point in which you would wake up in the morning just to see Sam’s smile. It was contagious. Whatever nightmare had plagued you in the night. Another missed phone call from your parents. Or even, just a bad day at school. Sam’s smile could rectify it all. Sam could erase your darkness and shine a little light on your bleak corner of the world. He gave you something to look forward to. 

Sam was only a little bit older than you. It didn’t matter much as kids but as teenagers, even a small age gap can feel like a world away. Sam was a lanky teenager. All the girls at school would see you with the Winchesters and ask you about Dean. They would fawn over his square shoulders and pouty lips. They often did not notice his younger brother, who had yet to grow into his awkward body. But, you did. All you saw was Sam. 

In your eyes, no one could touch the youngest Winchester. You knew who he was. You knew who he could become. 

You didn’t know if he knew about your crush. If he did, he never tease you about it or made you feel stupid. He treated you like you were worthy of his time. He treated you like you were adding something special to his life just by being in it. He accepted you and wanted you as you were. And, that is something you have never felt with any other person before or since Sam. You never got that feeling from your parents, any other guy, or any of your friends. Only with Sam.

But then, Sam left for Stanford. At first, you were happy for him. You knew more than anyone how much Sam hated the hunting life. He wanted out. He wanted to make something of himself. And you could not be prouder of him. 

But, you soon realized he had no intention of bringing you with him. He had no intention of sharing his new life with you. He was getting out of this life, without you. 

You had talked a lot over the years about what you two would do if you ever got out. School was never your thing, but you loved to read. So, in this fantasy, you would work full time at the campus library to help him pay for his tuition. You would get a small place together and finally be free. But then, Sam got a scholarship. He didn’t need your help anymore, he didn’t need  _ you _ .

At first, you thought getting out was an impossible pipe dream. But then, Sam did it. He did it all on his own. It was both the proudest and most devastating day of your life. 

You waited two years for him to reach out to you and ask you to join him. You were still a kid. You knew you couldn’t make it out there without his help. It took you two whole years to realize he wasn’t coming back for you. He had left you behind. So, you had to let him go. 

You wouldn’t impose on his new life. You were uninvited and unwanted. So, you stayed away. The only solace you took from that rejection was that he was safe and happy. You only wish he had said goodbye. 

Around the same time Sam left, your parents died on a hunt. It was up to you to pick up their crusade and power forward. If you stopped for too long, the grief of losing your parents, and losing Sam, would catch up with you. And those dark thoughts needed to be kept at bay. So, you kept moving forward. You decided it was best to keep on going through the motions until you met your inevitable end. 

It wasn’t a sad decision. You know that with your heart condition you have an early expiry date anyway, even earlier than any other hunter. So, it was for the best that you not get too involved with anyone else. 

You lost touch with Dean soon after. You then lost touch with the world. Your relationship with the remaining Winchester was reduced to a few texts every couple of months to check in that you were both still alive. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Dean had his father’s mission to uphold and had to pick up the extra slack after Sam left. He lost time for you. You don’t blame him. You know he was just throwing himself into his work to bury the pain of Sam leaving. You know that, because you did the same. 

You know you should have made more of an effort to reach out to Dean for support. But, neither of you are very good at talking about your pain. You each suffered in silence when you should have banded together. 

So, hearing Dean’s voice again after so long is jarring. It reminds you of what you lost, what you gave up. But you also know that for him to call you, and not just send a quick text, this must be serious.

“Y/N?” Dean calls out to you again after your long pause of no response. 

“I’m here,” your voice breaks. 

“Y/N, it’s Sam.”

That’s all he has to say before you spring out of bed. Your exhaustion has been eradicated by those three words. You keep the phone on your ear as you start packing your stuff. You don’t have much, so you are out the door in a matter of minutes. 

“Where?” You ask as you start piling into your beat up old car. 

“Palo Alto,” Dean responds. 

“I’ll be there,” you state with determination. 

You hear Dean sigh with relief. “I knew you would,” Dean says under his breath before hanging up. 

You turn over the engine and peel out of the motel parking lot. You fly to the Winchesters like a bat out of hell. It’s a long drive but you don’t stop once. Dean had texted you the address of the motel he and Sam are holed up in. The red neon vacancy sign flickers and draws you in like beacon calling you home. 

You don’t bother getting yourself a room. You can do that later. Right now, you need to see them, you need to see  _ him _ . Dean never said what was wrong. For all you know, Sam could be dead. That fear had been eating away at you the entire drive. You thought about calling Dean back and asking for more details about what you would be walking into. But, you couldn’t do it. You didn’t want to know. The longer you put it off, the longer you could hold out hope that Sam is fine. 

You see the Impala parked in front of the room on the far end of the motel. You pull up next to her and feel a sense of familiarity radiate off of her black paint. That sense of familiarity makes you feel at home and it puts you at ease, if only for a moment.

You see a light is on inside the room but the curtains are drawn so you cannot see in. You don’t hear voices or any movement. There is nothing that indicates Sam is alive and well inside. You have no choice but to bite the bullet without preparation or reassurance. You knock on the door and wait with baited breath as you hope your world stays intact when the door opens. 

You hear heavy footsteps approach the door and your heart quickens. A small part of you wants to make a run for it. Even if Sam is alive inside that room, do you really want to see him again? It took you years to stop crying yourself to sleep over him. You can’t start that pattern again. 

But as the lock clicks open, you realize you don’t have a choice. No matter what, you will always choose Sam. You will always endure whatever pain comes along with standing by his side. You will never abandon him. 

The door opens and you are met with a pair of green eyes. You can see a hint of sadness behind the colour, but not enough to indicate something has happened to Sam. If Sam was dead, Dean’s eyes would be unrecognizable. There would be no trace their familiar warmth. They would be an empty void of grief that would chill you to your core. 

But, that is not what you see. You see a small sparkle within the darkened forest. That flicker puts you at ease. Dean’s eyes light up completely when he realizes it is you. His lips curl into a smile. He pulls you into his arms for an embrace you didn’t even realize how much you missed until this moment. 

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest. You take in the comfort only true family can give. You have been missing this security for years. He is exactly how you remember him. He is strong and secure. Although, he does smell more strongly of whiskey than you remember.

Neither of you bother with a hello or an apology for how long it’s been. You both understand that in this moment that the past doesn’t matter. 

“Dean?” A familiar voice calls from behind the man holding you. You hear the voice you have dreamt about every night for over four years. It’s a bit lower and hollower than you remember, but you would know it anywhere. 

At the sound of his voice, you pull yourself away from Dean’s security and face your biggest insecurity, Sam. You see his eyes widen when he sees it is you in his brother’s arms. Sam was in the washroom when you knocked, you were the last person he was expecting to see when he came out. The look of surprise on his face tells you that Dean had not told him he called you. And if he did, then Sam didn’t think you would actually come. 

When a thick silence envelopes the space between you two, Dean decides to step in and make the first move. 

“I told you she’d come. All you had to do was ask,” Dean informs his brother. 

You look back at Dean with confusion. Did Sam really think you wouldn’t come for him? Does he really think you could ever hold a grudge against him? The sad part is, there is nothing he could do that you would not forgive. You will always put him first above any pain he may cause you. You know that is a dangerous realization, it may even get you killed one day. But right now, seeing him again, you could not care less about any future heartache. 

Neither you nor Sam can still say a word. Your voices are locked in a prison of uncertainty and your tongues are clipped with fear. 

You aren’t sure what you are doing here. Sam seems fine. He is looking at you the way he always used to, as if no time had passed.

But, then you see it. You see the shock of your arrival wear off and reality set back into Sam’s eyes. You no longer recognize the man in front of you. The shift in his demeanour both amazes you and catches you off guard. It was so quick, so sudden. You break the moment he does. 

Sam Winchester rarely lets his emotions off their tightly wound leash. He is a reserved man who projects his sadness inward. He would never dream of burdening another person with his pain. But, seeing you in front of him after all this time causes a crack to form in the brick wall he built around himself. 

You see the strength behind his usual restraint crumble as he looks at you. His eyes water over and his hazel eyes glisten with the need for familiar comfort. 

You can tell the only thing holding him back is the fact his brother is still in the room. Sam knows Dean will want to bear the burden of his grief. He doesn’t want his big brother to worry about him more than he already does. 

“Dean,” you speak for the first time since you got here. Your voice is broken and sad but also held firm, for Sam’s sake. “Can you go get us some dinner?” You know no one is probably hungry. But Dean is good at taking a hint.

“Sure thing,” Dean says before grabbing his jacket and slipping out of the room. He doesn’t bother asking what you want to eat. He just leaves. He knows you two need a moment. 

The second the door shuts behind Dean, you turn back toward Sam. But, Sam is no longer in his place across the room. You turn around and crash right into his chest. While your back was turned, he had closed the distance between you. 

He is looking down at you and the tears in his eyes are growing ever more prominent. One even threatens to spill over when you reach up to cup his jaw. You wipe it away before it can stain his cheek. 

The dam in Sam’s resolve breaks. He sees you as a safe harbour where he can bring his pain to shore. He didn’t want to burden Dean with this kind of heartache. But for some reason, he has no such reservations about laying his heavy load onto your shoulders. He knows you will bear it with him. He knows you will take care of him. He knows you will do everything in your power to sweep away his hurt and replace it with comfort. He knows you can take it. He knows you will understand. 

It has been years. Sam has hurt you. But, you both fall into your old roles like no time has passed. Growing up, you saw Sam as your rock. You’re starting to realize that he always saw you in the same light. You are sturdy, safe. You are reliable. 

He is too wrapped up in his own need for the security you provide. He doesn’t realize he is doing what he always used to. He is using you as a temporary life raft. You will keep him afloat long enough for him to learn how to swim on his own. Then, he will swim away. He will leave you to paddle aimlessly and alone in the choppy waters of your ocean of love for him. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing. But, you do. And, you let it happen. You will always let it happen.

* * *

 

A few hours have passed. Dean came back to the motel and dropped off some dinner but then left again. He walked in on Sam sleeping soundly with his head in your lap. This is the first time he has seen his brother rest since the fire. So, Dean left before he disturbed that newfound peace. 

You let Sam sleep while you rest your back against the headboard of his bed. You gently run your fingers through his hair when you see his brows crease in his sleep. Your sooth Sam’s nightmares away with your touch. You are getting tired yourself, that exhaustion is catching up to you again. But you force yourself to stay awake so you can keep Sam’s pain at bay while he sleeps. 

You don’t dare move, even when your legs are about to go numb. You know he needs this. You still don’t know what happened. Sam didn’t want to talk about it. He simply dragged you into his arms and hadn’t let you go until he fell asleep. And even then, he replaced your embrace for nuzzling into your lap. He needs this contact so you give it to him.

You cannot see the clock from where you are stuck sitting. So, you have no idea how much time has really passed. All you know is that you will sit here for as long as he needs. 

You feel Sam’s arms tighten around your legs. You think another nightmare is trying to inch its way back into his unconscious mind. But before you can ease it away, you see the makings of a smile on his lips. This isn’t a nightmare. He then places a chaste kiss to your lower thigh.

“Miss you,” Sam hums in his sleep. 

You are stunned into a statue like state. Your heart hurts and swells with joy at the same time. It hurts because you know he won’t remember this gesture when he wakes up. But you also don’t care. You’ll know it happened. You have that to hang onto to. You never thought he missed you or even thought about you while he was gone. But now, you know that isn’t true. That gives you more hope than you have ever had before.

Sam stirs awake seconds later. He was in the middle of a perfect dream. He dreamt Jessica was still alive. He dreamt that she came back to him after he told her how much he missed her. He dreamt that he fell asleep on her lap and had his normal life back. 

But now as he wakes up, he realizes where he is. He realizes Jessica is not here, you are. How did you get here?  _ Why  _ are you here? Where is Jessica? 

But then memories of the past few days comes flooding back. Sam remembers that Jessica died in the fire in his apartment and she isn’t coming back. The memory hits him like a ton of bricks. The smile that graced his lips due to his perfect dream is washed away in an instant. 

Sam pulls off of you and sits at the end of the bed. “I’m sorry. How long was I out?” he asks without looking at you. 

“For as long as you needed,” you reply. 

“You didn’t have to… I mean, thank you. But you don’t have to…” Sam stammers as tries to pull himself back together. That dream had thrown him for a loop. He is trying to regain his ability to know what’s real and what’s not. Are  _ you  _ even real? Or, are you a comforting delusion his mind concocted to make himself feel better? Are you a manifestation of his grief? 

He remembers you showing up to comfort him. But, was that just a sweet dream as well? You were always his rock as kids, maybe this is just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe his mind is giving him what he needs, you. This wouldn’t be the first vision Sam has had. Maybe that’s what this is, maybe that’s all you are. 

“I did have to,” you state. “And, I always will.” You take a deep breath when Sam still refuses to look at you. “Do you want to talk about it yet?” 

“No,” Sam answered with a clipped response. If you are a mirage, Sam doesn’t want to get too invested. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. What if he wakes up from this delusion and you disappear too? What if you never came back to him? He wouldn’t be able to cope with that loss as well as Jessica’s. 

“Then, what  _ do  _ you want to do?” You ask not knowing where to go from here. You’ll let him set the pace. You are dying to know what is eating away at Sam. But, you are willing to wait for him to come to you. 

“Let’s go find Dean,” Sam says as he gets up and off the bed. Dean will be able to tell him if you are really here. 

You find Dean at the dive bar down the block from the motel. Dean would never go too far from his brother now that he finally has him back in his life.

Dean’s face lights up when he sees you both enter. He hasn’t been able to get Sam out of bed, let alone out of the motel room. Even the dark circles under his brother’s eyes have lightened. Dean knows you were finally able to get Sam to let go long enough to rest. He gives you a grateful nod as you approach. You offer him a reassuring smile in return. 

“You see her too then?” Sam asks as he gestures to you. 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks with confusion as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Nothing,” Sam blows it off. He doesn’t want his brother to know he has been seeing things. He isn’t ready to tell Dean about his visions yet. 

“Alright then,” Dean shrugs it off. “You two want something to drink?” he asks as he gets up from his seat.

Sam nods as he takes Dean’s chair. 

“I’ll help you carry it,” you offer. 

“I think I can manage carrying a couple beers on my own, princess.” Dean smiles at you. You put your hand on his shoulder and give him a knowing look. “On second thought, I just got nails done and I don’t want them to smudge. Come on, Y/N.” Dean tries to lighten the mood with a joke. But it seems as though Sam didn’t even hear him. Sam has already retreated into his own mind. “Tough crowd,” Dean says under his breath and you smack his chest to keep him quiet. Now is not the time for his teasing. 

You two leave Sam alone and wait by the bar for your drinks. “What the hell happened to him?” you ask once you are out of ear shot. 

“He didn’t tell you?” Dean asks with surprise. You and Sam were alone together for hours, Dean thought that Sam would have at least mentioned the fire.

“No, he has barely said two words to me.” 

“I think  _ he  _ should be the one to tell you,” Dean says. If Sam isn’t ready for you to know, Dean wants to respect that. 

You roll your eyes. “I haul ass across the country just to be kept in the dark?”

“No, you hauled ass across the country for  _ Sam _ . I understand if after what he did, that’s not enough for you anymore. I won’t blame you if you want to leave. This isn’t your problem. He hurt you, he abandoned you. I just thought-”

“Dean,” you look him dead in the eye. “Shut up. I’m here. I’m not leaving.” The finality in your voice is founded on unyielding loyalty. Sam has hurt you. Sam will hurt you. But, there is nothing he can do to untether your devotion.  

Dean gives you a sad smile. He knows this isn’t easy for you. He’s always known you had a crush on Sam. He never told you or teased you about it. Even as kids, he saw the unanswered love weigh heavily on you. Dean didn’t want to make it worse with a cruel joke. So, he never let you know how transparent you actually are. He never let you see the pity in his eyes. 

You and the Winchesters sit around the table in silence for a long while. Your untouched beer warms as it sits in front of you. You don’t want the brother’s asking why you aren’t drinking. So, you put the bottle to your lips every so often but never take a sip. 

The timer on your watch goes off sometime after the brothers’ fifth round. You set it to remind you to take your heart medication. You didn’t bring anything but some cash with you to the bar, you weren’t expecting to stay out this long. You realize that you left your medication back at the motel with all your stuff. You know what happens if you miss a dose, so you decide to go back and call it a night.

“You should take Sammy with you,” Dean urges as he helps his drunk brother out of his chair. The Winchesters are not light weights. You don’t think you have ever seen any of them drunk before, especially Sam. But Sam had switched from beer to the hard stuff a couple rounds ago and took too much on too fast.

“You’re not coming?” you ask Dean who looks as sober as ever. 

“Nah, you’ve got him covered. He’s in good hands. He’ll just be sleeping it off anyway. Besides,” Dean looks over his shoulder toward the waitress who has been giving him extra special attention all night, “it’s important to make new friends. You should try it sometime, Y/N.”

“You’re such a slut,” Sam teases his brother with a playful laugh. 

You and Dean stare at him in shock for a moment. All night Sam hasn’t said word, unless he was ordering another round. He hasn’t smiled or even looked up from his glass. So, Sam’s sudden gust of brotherly banter takes you both by surprise.

“How drunk  _ are  _ you, Sammy?” Dean asks with a relieved smile once the shock wears off. This is the first time he’s caught a glimpse of the brother he knows Sam to be. 

“It’s S-Sam,” he corrects his brother before turning on his heel and walking toward the exit.

“Where the hell did that come from?” you ask Dean. 

Dean just shrugs. “Just roll with it. Maybe he’s getting better.” The hopeful optimism in his voice breaks your heart. Winchesters aren’t known for their optimism, but Dean has always been greener than he lets on to be. 

“Maybe,” you smile at Dean, not believing your own smile. But Dean buys it, and that’s what matters. “I should go,” you say as you see Sam leave the bar without you. 

Dean waves you off and pats himself on the back. He knew calling you would fix everything. He knew you could bring Sam back to himself. 

You run and catch up with Sam as he crosses the parking lot. You are content walking beside him in silence. But as you cross the deserted street, Sam takes your hand in his. 

“What are you doing?” you ask with a nervous laugh. 

“Safety first,” Sam replies. “You have a bad habit of darting into the middle of the road and almost getting yourself hit!” Sam squeezes your hand a little tighter. 

“It happened one time!” You roll your eyes but don’t pull away. “I was eight.  _ And _ , I only ran into the road because you just  _ had  _ to study for your math test on the way to school. All your homework blew away, I was just trying to get it back for you,” you defend yourself. 

Sam gives you a stern look. “You risked your life over a few multiplication tables?”

“I didn’t see it as risking my life,” you laugh. 

“How did you see it?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “You were such a nerd back then, you still are. But, I knew it would have killed you to show up to class empty handed.”

“So, you ran into traffic? I am still not following your logic,” Sam shakes his head.

“There is no logic,” you laugh. “The eight-year-old version of me would have done anything for you,” you admit. 

“What about  _ this  _ version of you?” Sam asks in a shy tone.

All you do is let out a humourless laugh. In this moment, you realize you really haven’t changed as much as you thought. You are still that love-struck school girl who would willingly take on a four-ton truck for him. 

“Always,” you respond simply. 

Sam looks to the ground and doesn’t say another word. But he does pull you in closer. You have long crossed the street, but Sam still holds your hand tightly in his. 

After all these years apart, being back at his side reminds you of a home you thought you had lost forever. You could walk with him like this all night.

Unfortunately, you two soon make your way back to the motel room. As you unlock the door, Sam lets go of your hand. He moves in behind you and wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin on the top of your head and squeezes you. He lets out a contented sigh as he rests against you. 

You were brought here to make  _ him  _ feel better. But this is the safest you have felt in years. So, you pretend to fumble with the lock to prolong this stolen moment. 

You eventually get the door open before he gets too suspicious. Sam makes a beeline for his bed and flops down on the end. You make yourself busy by rummaging through Sam’s bag and pulling out some old clothes for him to wear to bed. Dean booked you your own room after you arrived. It’s just a couple doors down, but you aren’t ready to be that far from Sam so soon after finally getting him back.

“Seriously Sam, how drunk are you?” You repeat Dean’s question from earlier when you see Sam struggle to kick off his shoes. You walk over and keel on the ground at the end of the bed. You help pull his shoes off his feet.

“Not too much, just enough. I could have done it myself, but I just wanted you to help me. I know how much you hate touching other people’s feet.” The teasing smile on his face and the sly trick he pulled should annoy you. But seeing him joke around, seeing his pain become more distant by the minute, makes you smile in return. 

“Jerk,” you say under your breath with a soft laugh. You slap his knee and get yourself up off the floor.

“That’s my line,” Sam retorts. 

You roll your eyes but have no trance of annoyance on your face. You go back to pulling Sam’s stuff out so he can’t get ready for bed, and you can leave. 

“You remind me of her,” Sam blurts out after a moment of silence. You turn back to face him with curious eyes. “Or maybe,  _ she  _ reminded me of  _ you _ . Maybe that’s why I…” Sam trails off as he contemplates if that’s why he was even drawn to Jess in the first place. Without even knowing it, he was searching for you. “Chicken or the egg, I suppose.” Sam shrugs as he stares off into the distance once more. 

You stare at Sam and only get more confused by the moment. “I’m going to need a little more information if I am going to be helpful in this conversation,” you inform him. 

Sam smiles to himself. “Jessica, my girlfriend. I think she reminded me of you.” 

You aren’t stupid. You figured Sam would fall in love while he was away, that thought actually kept you awake for years. But, that makes it no less painful to hear out loud. 

“You have a girlfriend,” you repeat mostly to yourself. You need to say it make yourself believe it. 

“ _ Had _ ,” Sam corrects you and you see the pain return to his eyes. “There was a fire, she didn’t make it out.”

“A fire? As in…” you trail off as you connect the dots. You doubt it is a mere coincidence that another Winchester man has lost his love to fire. 

“Yeah, she was… she-”

“You don’t have to say it,” you urge him. “I know.” You abandon your task and go over to sit next to him on the bed. You take his hand in yours and rest your head on his shoulder. 

Sam rests his head onto yours as he nervously plays with your intertwined fingers. You squeeze his hand to get him to calm down, he does. 

Sam takes his free hand and cups your cheek. He turns his head to bury his nose in your hair. He breathes you in and sighs in relief.

You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach and pull away. You cover up your tense behaviour with a joke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I haven’t had time to shower since my last hunt.” The second the words leave your lips, you regret them. You internally smack yourself for ruining the moment. 

Sam lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, you smell familiar. It’s perfect.” 

The way Sam is looking at you breaks your heart. He looks desperate, yearning for a familiar connection. But you can’t give in, you know this won’t mean to him what it would mean for you. 

You get up from the bed. “I should probably go.” You can see the moment your words cut through Sam. “I should go take that shower and you should get some more rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You turn to walk away but Sam grips your wrist. You stop in your tracks instantly but you don’t turn back toward him. If you face him and his dejection, you  _ will _ crumble. Your resolve will disintegrate as your need to take care of him will win over control of your actions. 

“Sam, let me go.” It is not a demand but a desperate plea. It is your last ditch effort to save yourself from the inevitable heartache that will come with the sunrise. He has to be the one to let you go because you  _ know  _ you cannot be the one to walk away, it has to be him. 

The grip over your wrist only tightens as Sam stands up from the bed. You can feel him close the already short distance between you. Once you feel his chest press into your back, you squeeze your eyes shut. He has you. You aren’t going anywhere.

Sam’s hand leaves your wrist to trace a feathery path up your arm. He glides his fingers up your neck and across your jaw. He hooks a finger around your chin and guides your head to the side. You follow his lead and turn your head in his direction. He gets you to turn around and face him chest to chest. He tilts your head up toward him but sees your eyes are screwed shut. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispers in a plea. 

You let out a heavy breath as your eyes flutter open. You meet his hazel eyes and see your whole world swirl around in his ever-changing mix of earth and water. Every time you think you have him figured out, the light changes and his eyes shift. You must relearn his eyes every time you look at him. 

Sam lowers his lips down to yours at an agonizing pace. You know he is only giving you time to push him off, but you know you never would. You have waited your whole life to know his kiss. You know this isn’t real. He is driven by grief and not by love. He is searching for momentary comfort, not a future. But, you cannot stop him. You cannot stop yourself from giving your one truest love everything he needs in this moment. 

Your first kiss with Sam is both everything and nothing like you expected. You have every butterfly and every ounce of passion you always dreamed about. But there is none of the finality and promise you are aching for. 

Sam’s hands find their way to your hair as the kiss deepens. You are so lost in his taste, you don’t even realize he has moved you until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed. You put your hand on his chest and push him back, but not away. 

“You’re drunk,” you say as you can taste the mix of whiskey and beer on his tongue. 

“Not too much, just enough.” Sam repeats his earlier claim but his tone is far less teasing. His voice is a low grumble that reverberates through your entire body. 

This is a terrible idea, the worst idea you’ve ever had. Every logical thought left in your brain is screaming at you walk away. Your pounding heart is begging you stop and think about how lonely and used you will feel when he leaves you again. But as Sam’s grip over your hair tightens, your rationality is drowned out by your desire. As the arm snaked around your waist pulls you in closer, your need for Sam overrides your better judgment. 

You have a self-destructive need to ease his pain. Your need to catch a taste of the end of your yearning causes you to disregard any potential consequence. You’ve survived Sam-induced heart ache before. You can do it again.

But the way Sam is holding you now, you feel a kindling of hope. As his eyes soften into a warm reassurance, you feel the familiar pangs of hope brewing inside you. You start believing that maybe this could be the start of something more. Maybe he could want you in the way you want him. Maybe you can heal him, then he can save you for once. 

You give Sam a small nod of your surrender. You give yourself over to him completely, as if that was ever a question. The smile of pure liberation Sam gives you has your head spinning with hope. 

Sam unbuttons your flannel and pulls it off your shoulders. He kisses every inch of newly exposed skin. Your flesh tightens into goosebumps as his lips leave a wet trail down your arm. Sam reaches around you to unhook your bra as his teeth nip into your neck. You aren’t ready for Sam to see you. So, as he pulls your bra away, you wrap your arms around his neck and pin your chest onto his. 

You capture his lips in hungry kiss to reassure yourself of his want. Sam’s large hands grip your hips and he pulls you up against the hardened bugle in the front of his jeans. That is all the reassurance you need. 

You break the kiss but don’t pull away. Sam can feel your cheeks heat up with worried embarrassment. You take a moment to work up the nerve to pull your naked chest off of him. Sam’s impatience gets the better of him. His grip over your waist tightens. Before you have time to stop him, Sam pushes you back and tosses you onto the bed. 

Your arms fly back to brace your landing, causing you to expose your naked chest to Sam’s scrutiny. The bounce of your landing causes the bulge in Sam’s pants twitch with hunger. When you go to hide yourself away again, Sam hovers over you and pins your wrists beside your head. 

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. Sam starts another trail of wet kisses down your body. He mouths at the swell of your beasts and takes your hardened bud into his mouth. His teeth and tongue work together to make your chest heave against him. He doesn’t stop until you arch your back into him and accept his ravishment. He keeps you in this position until he feels you surrender to his touch and stop pulling against his hold over you. 

Sam pulls himself off of you and lets you lay back as he rids himself of all his clothing. He makes it a slow and agonizing process. He loves how you squirm and squeeze our legs together with every layer he removes. Jess was always responsive to him. But, there is something different about the way you are looking at him now. Sam has never felt more wanted, more needed. You look at him like he is the only man in the world. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say there is unadulterated love in your eyes. But, Sam assumes his is misreading your lust as something more than it is. You couldn’t want him like that. You are just a friend helping out another friend. You are doing him a favour. You can’t want him. Sam doesn’t need to complicate this night with emotions. Sam pushes his thoughts away and focuses on the task at hand. 

He pulls his boxers down and frees himself to your gaze. Your eyes widen with a hint of fear and surprise. Sam can’t help but smile at your response. He knows he is larger than most, but his inner caveman likes the reassurance he finds in your worried eyes. 

“Relax, I’ll take care of you.” Sam assures you as he pumps himself with lazy effort. 

Hearing Sam say he will take care of you sets you at ease. You have always wanted to hear those words fall from his lips. You spent your entire life so concerned with taking care of him. You never even realize how much you yearn for him to take care of you as well. 

You lay on your back and stare up at Sam not sure what to do or say. Sam won’t be your first. After he left, you stopped waiting, saving yourself for him. You ran into another hunter on a case a couple years ago and figured then was a good as time as any to get it over with. It wasn’t special. But, it was nice. It was distracting. 

You hadn’t realized you had been gnawing on your bottom lip as you watch Sam touch himself. That is, until you taste a little blood. You snap yourself back to reality and reach your hands down to undo your pants. Sam helps them off your legs and pulls your panties down soon after. 

You instinctively close your legs but Sam grips your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed. He rests your feet flat on the bed and props your knees up. He keeps you spread open as he kneels on the floor, letting himself be eye level with your core. 

You feel the need to start babbling. You have a nasty scar from a pissy werewolf on your inner thigh that hasn’t had time to heal yet. You feel the need to explain to Sam that you don’t normally look so beat up. 

But Sam doesn’t seem interested in what you have to say. His tongue peaks out and he licks his lips like a stray puppy being shown a fresh piece of raw meat. You open your mouth to say something. Nothing but a string of vowels comes out instead as Sam leans in and takes his first taste. 

His tongue glides through your folds and then flicks against your clit. Sam pulls his mouth away and your hips jerk off the bed, searching out more. He wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he gives you more of what you want. 

Sam’s tongue circles your hole and he tastes the gathering wetness. You try grinding down on him but he gives your thigh a light tap to calm you down. Being able to make you squirm and pulling frustrated little groans out of you, gives Sam some semblance of control. You letting Sam take what he wants from you, having you surrender, makes him feel how much you trust him. He can feel himself regain his self-assurance every time you whimper with pleasure. 

Sam sucks his finger into his mouth before slipping it into your wet hole. He can feel you squeeze around him, as if you are trying to pull him further in. He soon adds another finger and sucks down over your clit to help you relax your muscles. The incoherent sounds that slip from your lips drive Sam forward. He fills your pussy with two more fingers to get you as prepared as possible. 

His cock aches with need the more you moan for him. The more you squeeze him, the more precum that seeps out of him.  He needs to be inside of you. But, he needs to get you ready. He doesn’t want to hurt you. 

“I – I…” you are about to warn him that you are on the verge of a release. But Sam knows what you’re about to say before you do. He pulls his fingers out of you and takes his mouth off of you too. 

You groan in frustration. You look down to see what he could possibly be doing that is more important than pushing you over your edge.

Sam laughs at the annoyance on your face. “Not like this,” Sam says as he places one last kiss to your mound before getting off the ground. “I want to feel it,” he informs you as nudges you further up the bed. 

You do as instructed but keep your legs spread for him. Sam settles between them. He rubs his length between your folds and juices up his cock with your wetness. He lines himself up with your entrance and you can feel his precum smear against your hole. 

You push on his chest and prop yourself up as you realize what’s about to happen. “Wait, do you have a-”

“No, I wasn’t really expecting this to happen. Do you have one?” Sam asks as his kisses your neck, not really seeming to care what your answer is going to be.

“N-No,” you say as your head lulls back to give him better access. 

“I’m good if you are. I trust you,” Sam says as his hips rock forward and his tip nudges a bit deeper inside you. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Y-Yes but that’s not what I…” You trail off as Sam starts sucking on that sweet spot on the crook of your neck. You should stop him. You’re not on the pill. Neither of you have a condom. As far as bad ideas go, this should be a red flag to take a step back. This should be a sign. 

But Sam inches his tip deeper inside of you with every passing second you stay silent. You’re not stopping him, you don’t want to stop him. You are on the verge of everything you’ve ever wanted. You can feel his tip stretch you out and his lips nibble away at your worry until there is nothing left. 

You lay back flat on the bed an open your legs a little wider. It is your silent signal that you are willing to take everything he wants to give, consequences and all. 

Sam can feel the second you accept him. The tension in your inner muscles ease and he slides home in one swift and powerful motion. Your back arches and your head cranes back against the bed as you feel Sam invade your every sense of being. 

Sam holds himself deep inside you as your walls struggle to accommodate his intruding length. The second he sees the discomfort in your face twist with pleasure, Sam starts to move. He pulls his hips back slow enough to let you feel every vein and every ridge drag against you. 

You moan his name as you dig your nails into his shoulders for grounding. Sam can feel you almost break his skin so he knows you’re ready for it. He knows you can take it. He knows you  _ will _ take it, he needs you to. 

Sam snaps his hips forward and fills you again until his hips bump you up the bed. He continues this brutal pace until your head hits against the headboard. You grab onto the cheap bars to stop yourself from moving up any further up. 

Sam plants his hands by your side and drives his length inside of you as he chases his sweetest distraction. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses solely on the feel of you wrapped around him. He loses himself in that sensation. If it wasn’t for the pleasured sounds spilling off of your lips, Sam would forget who or what he was fucking. 

“Need this,” Sam grunts as he feels you throb around him. “Always need you, only you!” Sam cries out as he loses himself in the moment. “Fucking missed you so much,” Sam groans as his pace quickens. Images of both you and Jess flash in his mind. He doesn’t know which one he is talking to. He keeps his eyes closed and focuses on the feeling of being with another person in such a close and healing way. 

Tears start to prick your eyes as Sam tells you what you needed to hear. It doesn’t even occur to you that he may not be talking to you. It never even crossed your mind that he may be talking to the images of his dead girlfriend he created in his mind. 

“S-Sam,” you say in a near scream as his supposed confession pushes you toward your release. You let yourself believe that this has switched from a healing tryst, to him making love to you. 

Your heart starts to race and your breath is getting harder to catch. The sweat that breaks out over your brow mixes with the tears that are falling into your hairline. You start to feel a little dizzy. It is in this moment you realize your mistake. You forgot to take your medication when you got back to the motel. It was the whole reason you came back here in the first place, but Sam pulled your mission off course. 

“S-Sam,” you say again but this time with more worry in your voice. You missed your dose, and on top of that, you are over exerting your heart. You don’t know what will happen if you cum. You don’t know if your heart can take it. 

Sam only hears you say his name, he doesn’t hear the panic behind your words. He puts his hand between your bodies. He thinks you want help getting yourself over the edge. He rubs down on your clit and you feel your every muscle twitch with tension, including your heart. 

“Sam, please!” You cry out. Only now, you have no idea if you are asking him for more or asking him to slow down. 

You want him to keep going. You are on the brink of the most intense pleasure you have ever known. You refuse to let it slip away because you fear your condition. You have been denied many things over the years because of your illness, you refuse to give this up too. Everything is finally falling into place, you aren’t going to let your heart condition ruin it all. 

Sam’s cock uses your hole and his fingers play with your bud. But the thing that finally brings you to your release is when he captures your lips in a fiery kiss. He nips at your bottom lip. He invades your mouth with purpose and what you think is promise. 

Your walls convulse in a quick and erratic rhythm around Sam’s cock. Your heart feels like it may explode. But, that only intensifies the tidal wave of ecstasy coursing through you. Your blood rushes in every direction and you feel flushed all over. You scream as you feel your inner muscles hold Sam inside you. Your body releases a rush of wetness onto the base of Sam’s pounding cock. 

This renewed tightness drags Sam toward his own end. You can tell by the way he grunts with purpose and loses his rhythm that he is too close for comfort. 

You regain enough sense to speak up. “You can’t… not inside me. P-Pull out,” you beg through your ragged breaths. 

Sam groans with frustration but does as he is told. However, he is not quick enough. He is only half way out before the first little bit of his cum starts spurting out of him. He yanks himself out the rest of the way and empties the rest of his load onto your lower belly. 

With heavy breaths, Sam falls onto the bed beside you. His cock is still wet with both you’re cum but he looks as if he is about to fall asleep regardless. You, however, are not in such a state. The blissful euphoria is wearing off and you are left with only your pounding and erratic heart. 

Sam can feel you slip out of the bed and he perks his head up. “Where are you going?” He asks with sleepy concern.

“I – uh… need to get cleaned up,” you lie as you clutch your chest. 

“Shit, sorry. I forgot about that,” Sam exclaims as he sits up. “Lie back down. I’ll get you a warm cloth. Let me take care of it,” he offers despite his heavy eyes. 

“It’s fine, Sam.” You smile at him. You love how he wants to take care of you. But you need to take your medication and you can’t ask him to get it for you. You don’t want him asking what they are for. That is a conversation for another time. Maybe in the morning you’ll tell him the truth, your every truth. 

You pull a blanket around yourself and lean over to give Sam a kiss on the cheek. You love how natural it feels. 

“I’ll be right back. You should rest.” You are barely out of the bed before Sam is snoring lightly. 

You smile to yourself and take your duffle bag into the washroom. You take your much-needed dose and sit on the edge of the tub as you take calming breaths. You’re not sure how long it takes you to regain a normal heartrate but you don’t care. It was worth it. 

You get in the shower and clean yourself off, you wash Sam off of you. You want to be clean and ready just in case he wants to wake you up in the morning with a round two. You don’t want to be gross and sticky for your first night sleeping in his arms in such a long time. 

You get out of the shower and dry yourself off before slipping back into the bed beside him. You don’t bother putting on clothes or even any underwear. You want one night of no barriers between you and Sam. 

You fall asleep and for the first time in a long time you sleep the whole night through. You are not awoken by nightmares or kept awake by intrusive thoughts. You are at complete ease. 

Sam on the other hand, is not so lucky. He may have fallen asleep instantly, but it was not as restful as either of you anticipated. Sam jolts awake in the middle of the night in a burning sweat. 

He was back in his old apartment, he was back amongst the flames. He was trapped in his nightmare of watching his life burn around. Dean wasn’t there to pull him out this time. This wasn’t his memory. It felt like another vision, like the same one he had a few weeks before Jess died.

He was forced to lay back on his bed and watch as the woman he loved burned above his head. Her blood dripped from her stomach and onto Sam’s chest. Each drop felt like acid that ate its way into his core and melted him from the inside out. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop it. He had to watch it happen. 

He had to watch you burn. 

Sam woke up and saw you are still sleeping soundly at his side, curled into his chest. You aren’t pinned to the ceiling. You are safe, for now. You only stirred slightly when he jostled you. But otherwise, he has never seen you so at peace. 

Sam runs his hand through your hair and pulls you in closer. He lets his nightmare, his vision, settle into his memory. You are always there for him. You came when Dean called. You forgave Sam even when he didn’t deserve such mercy. You are always there for him. You are his best friend. You have never let him down. Now, he must do the same for you. 

Sam won’t make the same mistake he made with Jessica. He will not ignore this vision. He will not put you at risk by keeping you by his side. He may need you. But he doesn’t deserve you. It is dangerous for you to stay with him. Whatever killed Jess, is making it clear that it doesn’t want Sam to move on. 

Aside from Dean, you are the only person Sam has left. He cannot lose his only true friend. Last night, you help him through one of the worst experiences of his life. You put your friendship on hold and gave him the physical comfort he needed. He won’t let his friend burn because some yellow eyed creature doesn’t want Sam to have anyone getting too close to him.

* * *

 

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed. Your alarm went off reminding you to take your morning dose, not exactly the wakeup call you were hoping for. You turn over to find Sam  _ and  _ Dean arguing by the door.

“What the hell?” You ask as you pull the blankets tight over your naked body. “Dean, get the hell out!” you shout. You don’t want the eldest Winchester seeing you like this. 

“Relax, it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.” The eldest brother says as he tilts his head to the side with teasing interest.

“Out!” You throw your pillow at him. 

Dean ducks the pillow and throws it back at you. You are too busy trying to cover yourself to block the shot. The pillow hits you in the face which Dean finds hilarious. Definitely  _ not _ what you were hoping to wake up to. You give him an angered glare but he just laughs in response. 

“Alright! Dean, enough!” Sam finally chimes in with an annoyed huff. “Go wait outside. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Dean winks at you and you stick your tongue out at him. You know he would never sneak a peek against your consent. He is more of a gentleman than people give him credit for, but he does love to annoy you. 

“Why was he here? Where are you two going? Are you making a breakfast run? Because if you are I-”

“No, actually. We’re…uh… leaving town. Our dad, we still can’t find him. But we think we caught his trail. He’s going after the thing that killed our mom… and Jess.” Sam looks to the ground as he mentions the name of his old flame. He doesn’t like talking about her while you still lie naked in his bed. 

“Oh,” you sit up and take the blanket with you as you get out of the bed. “I can be ready in ten minutes. Just let me grab-”

“Y/N,” Sam says in a strained voice. “This isn’t a normal case for us. It’s dangerous, too dangerous for-” 

“I can handle dangerous,” you laugh with a strange air of confidence Sam is not used to hearing from you. “I’ve been on my own for a while, I learned a thing or two.” You walk over to your bag and pull out a change of clothes. 

“Y/N, stop. You’re not hearing me. This isn’t a regular case. It’s a  _ family _ thing. This is something Dean and I need to take care of… on our own.”

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him. The awkward way he refuses to look you in the eye says it all. He doesn’t want you to come. He doesn’t consider you core family. He wants to leave you behind, again. 

“Oh,” you don’t know what else to say. You thought you would be waking up to a future, not your past repeating itself. But it is even worse this time. 

You knew better than to let yourself have hope. But how could you not when the man you love tells you he will always need you? How could you not believe your luck was finally turning? The man you’ve waited your whole life for told you he wanted to take care of you. Was it too far fetched to believe he could actually mean it?

Sam can see his words are hitting you harder than he expected they would. He thought you both knew this was a one-time deal. He reaches out for you but you flinch away from his touch. 

“Y/N, I don’t want you to think-”

“No, I get it.” You assure him with a forced shrug.  “Last night wasn’t anything more than what it was. You needed something familiar, an outlet. You didn’t need  _ me _ . You needed an escape, somewhere to lay your baggage down for the night. I understood what I was getting myself into. You don’t need to explain.” You try to shrug it off as best you can. You don’t want him to see how you are barely even standing right now. You don’t want him to see that this is killing you.

“That’s not-” Sam tries to protest but the words fail him. Nothing he says will sound like the truth. If he tells you how much he really needs  _ you _ , you will insist on coming with him, helping him. And that could get you killed. Sam will never let that happen, not for his sake. 

“It’s fine, Sam.” You cut off the awkward silence because you don’t want to hear him lie to you again. You can’t let him give you anymore false hope. 

Sam runs his hands through his hair. There is nothing left for him to say, except goodbye. 

“Thank you. Thank you for helping me last night. I thought it would be weird… you know,  _ us  _ being together like that. I know we have never really thought of each other like that, so I appreciate you taking care of me like you did. I owe you one.” 

Sam’s words are a slap in the face. It feels like a physical blow that knocked your heart out of your chest. Does he really see it as a platonic gesture of one friend helping out another? Was this really just a  _ favour  _ to him? He ‘owes’ you one? He says that like you gave him a fresh pair of socks, and not your entire soul. 

“You’re welcome,” you whisper when you have nothing else to say. 

“You’re a good friend. I love you.” Sam admits.

You have waited your entire life to hear him say those words to you. But you know he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him to. 

“I love you too,” you say the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest your entire life. You thought that by saying it out it would alleviate the burden. You thought that if you told Sam how you feel, even if he doesn’t know the depth of your love, that it would help. But the weight only increases. The pain only multiplies. 

For the briefest of moments, you thought Sam heard you, really heard you. You thought he heard the bare and yearning truth behind your words. Sam closes the distance between you but all he does is kiss your forehead in the same way he always used to. You think you feel his lips linger on you with regret. But he pulls away before you can say for sure.

Sam opens the motel door but looks back at you. You can see him hesitate, but you know better than to get your hopes up again. 

“D-Do you need a ride to the drug store?”  he asks with a shy tone. 

“The drug store?” You have trouble finding your voice so you don’t speak in full sentences. 

“Yeah… I just figured… better to be safe than sorry. You know…  _ safety first _ and all.” Sam says with a shy shrug and a forced smile. His smile fades when he sees you are not in the mood to be teased. 

You narrow your eyes at him as you realize this is his not-so-subtle way of asking you to take a morning after pill. You know it is a good idea, but you are still offended that he brought it up in this way. 

“No, I got you covered. You’re free to go,” you all but snap at him. You shoo him off and start to storm back toward the washroom. You can’t watch him leave. 

“Y/N, hey!” Sam calls after you. He stops you before you can disappear and lock the door. “This isn’t going to ruin things between us, is it? It can’t. I meant what I said, I  _ need  _ you. I can make this right. I know I’ve screwed up a lot with you… but this… this can’t be it. I need you. I always will.”

You take a deep breath as you look into his pleading eyes. You should yell at him. You should hate him, you  _ want  _ to hate him. But you can’t. 

You knew what this was when you got into bed with him last night. He never promised you forever. You knew it would hurt in the morning but you did it anyway. You’re the one who put yourself in this position. You’re the one who let the love of your life take a piece of your soul and use it to repair his own. You gave it willingly, and you’d do it again. Now, you have to let him take it without letting him feel guilty about it. 

You promised him you’d take care of him and you did, you always will. You love him. Despite everything, you will always love him. That will never change. 

“I’m fine,” you lie with a believable smile. “We’re fine, Sam. You should go. But please… keep in touch this time.” You don’t want to sound too desperate. But, the thought of losing Sam all over again is even more painful than his unknowing rejection. 

You step onto your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. You hate how natural it feels.

* * *

 

A few hours later, you find yourself standing in the aisle of the nearest drug store. You stare at the various morning after pills they have available over the counter. There are a limited number of options, but it still seems like a difficult choice. 

“First time?” A perky voice calls from behind you. 

You turn around and see a pretty girl around your age giving you a knowing smirk. She reaches around you and picks up one of the boxes you were trying to decide between. She hands it to you before taking one off the shelf for herself. 

“Is it  _ that  _ obvious?” you ask as you accept her recommendation. 

“The terrified look in your eye gave you away,” she teases you. 

“Well, thanks for your help.” You smile at her before turning to walk away. But, the perky woman follows you to the checkout line. 

“So, what kind of asshole makes you buy your own pills?” She blurts out while you wait. 

You can’t help but laugh at her blunt nature. You should ignore her. But, her openness is oddly endearing. 

“He’s not an asshole… okay he kind of is,” you admit. You love Sam but you are not afraid to admit his faults. “He did offer… but I…” You start to stammer so you change the subject. “What about you? Who’s your asshole?” 

“To be completely honest, I don’t remember his name. But will always remember the way he grunted mine,” your new friend says without an ounce of shame. You like that about her. It makes you laugh, and you needed to laugh today. You both buy your pills and walk out into the parking lot together. “We were careful. But in my line of work, I don’t like taking chances,” she continues her tale. 

“Oh yeah, what do you do for a living?” you ask her. 

She giggles. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“You’d be amazed what I would believe,” you say mostly to yourself. Nothing she says would be as unbelievable as what you do. 

You pull out your car keys and say another thank you to the outgoing woman who gave you a hand. 

“Wait a second,” she stops you when she sees your devil’s trap keychain. You keep it there as a frame of reference for whenever you have to draw one on the underside of a rug or on the ground. She gives you another knowing smile. “I think we should grab a coffee. We may have even more in common than our asshole taste in men.” She pulls up her shirt and shows you the anti-possession tattoo on her hip. 

You look at her in surprise. Hunters are a rare breed. Finding one in the feminine aisle of a drug store is uncanny to say the least. It is the chance meeting that had to be orchestrated by fate herself. 

You haven’t paired up with another hunter in a long time. You are comfortable on your own, but you wouldn’t go so far as to say you are happy this way. You were hoping to tag along with the Winchesters for more than a night. But they’re gone now, and for who knows how long. You could use the company. Your tired of being lonely. One cup of coffee couldn’t hurt. At the very least, she’ll take your mind off of Sam for a while. 

“I’m Y/N,” you say as you extend you hand out for her to take. 

The women all but squeal with excitement. She catches you off guard as she ignores your hand and pulls you in for a hug. Her friendliness is unusual for a hunter. But, her warm affection is just what you need right now. It’s nice having someone excited to get to know you. You are in a vulnerable place right now. She could not have better timing even if she tried. You could use a friend today. 

“My name’s Kerry,” she says as she pulls away and gives you a genuine smile you can’t help but fall for.

  
  



	8. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set a few days after the final chapter (Chapter 5). Sam dreams of the life he could have had with the Reader if he had only played his cards right from the beginning. When he wakes up from his bliss, reality hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Drop it, Sammy. I’m  _ not  _ going to tell you again.” Dean groans as he downs another hearty helping of whiskey. Dean is no longer even bothering with a glass. There’s no point. Drinking straight from the bottle cuts out the futile middleman. Dean  _ will  _ finish the bottle in one sitting. There’s no point in pretending otherwise. 

“Why won’t you just tell me?” Sam begs his brother one last time. He has been bugging Dean about this for the past two days. Sam has to know. He has to know what happened between you and Dean while you were both demons. He has to know what the last few years of your life were like. He needs to know if you were happy. 

Sam has never been a masochist. But for some reason, he craves the pain of knowing what you and Dean did together. He needs the pain. He  _ deserves  _ the pain. He needs to feed his guilt and remind himself that he is to blame for your death. He can’t let himself forget. He can’t let himself not feel it. 

Dean ignores Sam, as he always does. Dean refuses to admit what he had done with you,  _ to  _ you, as a demon. He feels as though if he says it out loud, it will become real. It won’t be just another memory he can drown out with alcohol. Dean doesn’t want Sam looking at him like Dean looks at himself. So, Dean leaves Sam’s pleads unanswered. 

In reality, Sam’s imagination is worse than any truth Dean could spout. Sam is tortured by flashes of unwelcomed thoughts and images his mind creates. But, Dean is too deep inside his bottle to realize the damage being done by his enduring silence. 

“Dean!” Sam shouts with desperate fury. 

Dean doesn’t even flinch. He takes another sip as if he cannot even hear his brother.  

Sam’s rumination hits its breaking point. Sam lunges forward and pulls Dean out of his chair. He grabs Dean by the scruff of his shirt and pins him against the wall. 

Dean doesn’t try to push his brother off of him. He doesn’t care if Sam takes a swing. He doesn’t care about anything right now. Dean is so far down his drunken spiral, Sam could pull a knife on him and he wouldn’t even blink. Dean’s regret and self-hatred almost makes him hope Sam does make a move and knock him out, if Dean was even capable of hope right now. 

Dean looks up at Sam with sunken and empty eyes. His eyes have glazed over as he retreats into his memories. Sam was right. You  _ were  _ like a little sister to Dean. Had his soul not been twisted into the darkest version of itself, Dean never would have used you or your body in the way he had. 

Dean has to remind himself that, at the time, you did enjoy it. You never told him to stop or slow down. Your inner demon begged for more. You even outlasted Dean and, as a demon, he was especially insatiable. But that knowledge doesn’t stop Dean from wishing his darkened soul never touched you. It doesn’t stop him from hating himself for enjoying it as much as he did. 

Dean walked away from his time as a demon without a scratch on him. Meanwhile, you paid the ultimate price. It doesn’t seem fair. Dean has scars, but none Sam can see. Dean must  bear those invisible and open wounds for the rest of his life. He has to live with what he’s done. But he won’t make Sam do the same. So, Dean keeps his mouth shut. He waits for Sam to make his move. 

“Are you even still in there?” Sam asks as he peers into Dean’s vacant eyes. He doesn’t see his brother looking back at him. Sam’s anger gives way to desperation. He lost you. And now, by the vacant look in Dean’s eyes, it appears he has lost his brother as well. Dean is a shell. An empty vessel. Sam almost misses the demon that was once inside Dean. The demon would give him answers. The demon had signs of life in his dark eyes. But as Sam looks at his brother, all he sees is a barren forest.

Dean doesn’t know how to respond to that question. Any answer he gives would sound like a lie. He lets out a tired sigh. “Go take a walk, Sammy.” Dean suggests. They both need space. Having both brothers confined to the bunker has created a toxic mix of grief in the air. Dean knows his brother could use a breath of fresh air. 

Sam lets go of the scruff of Dean’s shirt and takes a step back. He realizes he isn’t going to get any answers from Dean. He won’t get  _ anything  _ from his brother. He won’t get any comfort or reassurance. Dean is just as lost as him, only for different reasons. Both brother’s grief is rooted in guilt. But, Dean’s is also rooted in shame. There is no shaking him out of that. Dean has to crawl out of that hole on his own.

Sam walks away without a word and Dean returns to his bottle. 

You have been gone only two days. But, neither Winchester has any concept of time anymore. To them, time stopped when you did. Both brothers are too locked in their own grief and regret to understand the passage of time. They do not know it has only been a few days since you died, not a few lifetimes. 

This is the second time you have died. But, this time it is final. The brothers have to start grieving all over again. Their old wounds are reopened and made a little deeper than they once were. 

Neither brother has left the bunker since it happened, even to burn your body. Sam brought you back his room you. He also brought Kerry’s body back to her old room. She had bled out before anyone even knew she was gone. Sam laid her out on the bed and wrapped her in the bedsheet. He knows he is to blame for her death as well. He never should have called her and dragged her back into his life. He should have tried to cure you on his own.

The more Sam thinks about it, the more he realizes he never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. He cared about Kerry. She was everything he  _ thought  _ he wanted. And because he cared about her, she is dead. 

As the two women in his life lay lifeless in their respective rooms, Sam recognizes the pattern all too clearly. It is more than simply bad luck, he is cursed. It is  _ his _ fault the women in his life drop like flies. With the advantage of hindsight, Sam can see he lead you both to your death beds. 

But, it is your bedside in which Sam spent his nights. He brought you to his room and let your skin cool on his sheets. Sam insisted on keeping you there until he found a demon willing to go against their King and offer Sam a deal. He would go to Crowley himself if it meant getting you back. Crowley would do it. Crowley would do anything to bring you back, even if it meant helping Sam.

But, Dean and Cas had other plans. Dean knew his brother was on the verge of a self-sacrificing decision. He knows that look in Sam’s eye because it is the same look  _ you  _ wore when you left the hospital the night Sam was injured. 

Dean needs to put an end to the constant cycle of sacrifice and loss. You two cannot keep selling your souls for each other. Soon, there will be nothing be left to save. Dean hates that you are gone. But, he can’t bear the idea of Sam taking your place. Dean loves you. But, he loves Sam more. You would understand. Dean knows this is what you’d want. 

Sam was sitting at your bedside, watching over your lifeless body, when he fell asleep. When he woke up, you were gone. Cas had taken yours and Kerry’s bodies away in the night. He gave you both a proper hunter’s burial and made sure your souls did not linger on this plane. 

Dean asked Cas to do it alone. Dean knew neither him nor Sam could withstand another funeral for you. So, Cas spared the Winchesters of that burden. However, Sam did not see it that way. He saw Cas’ actions as a betrayal. To him, Cas took away his chance to save you once and for all. 

As Sam’s behaviour became aggressive, Dean suggested Cas leave while Sam cooled down. Cas fluttered away after giving Sam a sincere apology he was not ready to hear.

That was two days ago. Sam is still lingering in the anger stage of his grief. But he can feel it starting to give way as he leaves the bunker. The anger is leaving him to make room for a kind of emptiness he has never known. 

He finds himself at the nearest bar in town. Usually Sam wouldn’t come to a place like this without Dean, this is more his brother’s scene. But, Sam has not been feeling like himself lately, he hasn’t in years actually. 

As Sam slumps in his barstool, he can feel the air shift around him. “She’s dead,” Sam says without looking up from his drink. This is the first time he’s said the words out loud. The words taste wrong on his lips so he washes that bitter taste down with his double whiskey. 

“I know,” a gruff British accent says from the seat beside Sam. Crowley tries to mask the pain in his voice. A demon of his stature, a King nonetheless, should not concern himself with the life of one woman. But he does, you are his  _ only  _ concern. 

“Are you here to kill me then?” Sam asks without a care in the world. In fact, a part of him is hoping Crowley will do what his is too much of a coward to do himself. 

Crowley bites back his anger. He should do it. He  _ wants  _ to do it. But putting Sam out of his misery is not vengeance. Killing Sam now, while he is in this state, is an act of mercy. And, Crowley is not a merciful man. He wants Sam to suffer. Crowley wants Sam to spend the rest of his life knowing he is responsible for your death. Pettiness will not bring you back. It won’t ease Crowley’s grief. But seeing Sam in pain sure does take the edge off. Crowley is still a demon after all, and demons are notoriously petty creatures. 

“Why would I do that, Sam?” Crowley asks with a detached and hollow voice. He sounds so unlike himself. There are no teasing nicknames or no hint of playful mocking in his voice. He has never sounded so earnest. “You’re better than dead, you  _ wish  _ you were dead. And, that’s good enough for me.” 

It is not lost on Sam that Crowley is no longer calling him Moose, or even Samantha. Crowley is no longer capable of feigning joviality. They are no longer friends, if they ever were to begin with. 

The two men share a common grief over you. They both loved you and they both could not save you. Any commonality beyond that is too far out of reach. 

Sam does not respond to Crowley. He merely nods his understanding. He knows Crowley won’t end his suffering. But he had to ask. 

The two men sit in silence for a long while. There is an understanding between them. Out of respect for you, neither man will draw their weapons tonight. They will sit and finish their drinks without incidence. They will mourn you in silence. These are the two men who loved you most. No one else will understand the extent of their loss. 

The men drink and grieve without a word. They don’t even look at each other. They know that after tonight, any truce they carry on your behalf will wear itself thin. All bets will be off by dawn. Crowley will show Sam no mercy in reminding him who is really to blame for your death. But until that time comes, they drink. 

After an hour or two of silent mourning, Crowley stands up from his seat. He’s had enough. He can no longer sit with your reaper. 

Crowley remembers the bright sparkle that lived behind the black eyes he gave you. He thought he had the rest of eternity with you to uncover that light again. But, Sam robbed him of that chance. Crowley is not a fool. He knew you could never love him in the way you loved Sam. But, he didn’t care. You were his Queen, in every sense of the word. What you had together was twisted, yet true. No one can take that away from him. 

“She wanted me to tell you that she was grateful for you. And, that she did love you in whatever way she could at the time,” Sam blurts out as Crowley starts to walk away. 

Crowley doesn’t turn around to face him. But, he stops dead in his tracks. He expected Sam to mock his relationship with you. He expected the youngest Winchester to belittle the love Crowley has for you. Instead, Sam tells him exactly what he needed to hear. 

Crowley is stunned into silence, so Sam continues. “She saw something in you that I will  _ never _ understand. It bothered me. It still bothers me. It bothers me because you listened to her and treated her better than I ever did.” Sam is now mostly talking to himself. “I was jealous off the smile you were able to put on her face. She may have been a demon, but she was happy. That was never something I was able to give her. You were there for her when I wasn’t… thank you.” 

Both men are surprised by the sincerity in Sam’s voice. Sam had no intention of saying all of that. But once the words started flowing he couldn’t stop them. He is forever grateful toward Crowley, and he is forever bitter toward him as well. Sam is not afraid to admit his jealousy and regret are getting the better of him now that you are not here to keep him in check. 

Crowley glances over his shoulder as his desperation breaks down his resolve to stay silent. “Can I see her? Can I say goodbye?” Crowley whispers. He knows he sounds pathetic, but he no longer cares. Crowley can’t remember the last words you shared together. He can’t remember if he told you he loved you. All he can remember is Sam driving your unconscious body away from him, forever. He needs to say goodbye.

Sam looks down at his drink and shakes his head. “She’s already gone.” He gives Crowley the hard truth. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get to say goodbye either.” Sam sits and waits for Crowley to twist the knife. He waits for the demon to lash out in anger. But, nothing comes. Sam looks up and sees that Crowley has disappeared.

The King is gone. He had to leave before he snapped and killed Sam here and now. He left before Sam saw the glossy pain in his eyes. Crowley is no longer able to share his grief with your killer. He left to go grieve you in his own way, which will no doubt involve bloodshed. 

Sam leaves the bar shortly after Crowley’s disappearance. He doesn’t know what he was hoping to find here. But unlike Dean, he now knows he won’t find it at the bottom of a bottle. Sam shuffles out to the parking lot and gets into Baby’s front seat. He isn’t drunk, but he has had just enough alcohol to feel more than a little drowsy. Sam decides to sleep it off before he drives home. 

* * *

“Wake up,” you poke Sam’s cheek as he sleeps peacefully beside you. You know you should let him rest. He’s had a hard few weeks. He barely got a moment’s rest while his brother was missing. And, once you found out Dean was a demon, things only got worse. Sam got in touch with his darker self. It is a side of him you never knew existed. But, you stuck by his side the entire time. You stopped him from falling too far over that edge. No matter how bad things got, you were always there to reel him in. 

Sam groans and buries his face into the bare skin of your shoulder. He clings to your body heat as you wake him up against his will. “Five more minutes.” His words are muffled against your skin. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and start stroking his hair. Sam begrudgingly opens his heavy eyes and looks up at you. You smile at the sleep-induced grumpiness that furrows his brows. You can’t help but let out a small giggle at that sight. Even when Sam tries to be grouchy, he still looks adorable. 

“You always look like a cranky puppy whenever I wake you up,” you tease him. 

“Maybe you should take it as a hint to quit waking me up,” Sam grumbles as he flops his head back onto your shoulder. But Sam does not fall back asleep, he starts nipping at your skin. His teeth quickly get you squirming beneath him. However, you aren’t trying to get away, the opposite actually.  

“Ouch!” You laugh as Sam nips at you a little too hard. He lifts his head back up and give you a wicked smirk. All sleep is gone from his eyes. You poke the end of his nose. “Bad puppy! No teeth,” you scold him with feigned toughness in your voice. 

Your words only cause Sam to lean down and bite you harder. You squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter. You know it annoys him when you call him ‘Puppy’, that’s why you do it. 

Sam rolls on top of you while his mouth continues to lay it’s claim over your tingling skin. Now, you are actively trying to squirm away from him. He has taken it upon himself to tickle your sides without mercy, he knows it is your kryptonite. Sam grabs a hold of your hips and keeps you pinned to the mattress. He isn’t letting you out of this that easily. You started this.

“I surrender,” you all but scream as your laughter becomes uncontrollable. 

“Shush,” Sam whispers as he takes his mouth off of you. “You’ll wake up Dean,” he smiles at you. Sam loves hearing you react to him. But, he also knows Dean is only a few doors down and in dire need of some rest. 

“Too late,” you hear Dean’s sleepy voice call through your closed door as he shuffles down the hall toward the kitchen.

“Sorry!” You yell out as you bite your knuckles and look at Sam with a guilty smile. You didn’t mean to wake up Dean. “Oopsy,” your smile morphs into one of mischief. 

“You’re  _ not _ sorry.” Sam reads you like a book as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Yes, I am!” You defend yourself. You hate how he knows you so well, you can’t get away with anything. 

“If you are  _ so  _ apologetic, then why are you trying to pull down my pajama pants?” Sam raises a teasing brow up at you as he looks down to where you are trying to pull his hardening length free. 

You pull your hands up and raise them in a defensive position. “I was not!” you lie. 

“Grabby  _ and  _ a liar?” Sam sucks in air through his teeth as he shakes his head at you. “What am I going to do with you? Someone should really teach you some manners,” Sam smirks as he lowers his lips down to yours. 

“Put up or shut up, Winchester. I haven’t got all day,” you poke the bear. You love the playful glint that forms in Sam’s eyes when you get mouthy. 

“I’ll keep you here for as long as I damn-well please,” Sam informs you with a demanding kiss. 

You have missed this side of him. Lately, Sam has been consumed with finding and then curing his brother. You two haven’t had a chance to be together in the way you are used to. 

Lately, anytime you have had sex, you have done it to relieve some of his tension. Before Dean went missing, you two would spend hours loving every inch of each other. Sometimes Dean wouldn’t see you two for days before you would finally emerge from your shared room. But, for the past little while, all you’ve gotten is a quickie once a week or so. 

You and Sam have been together your entire lives. You grew up together. You left for college together. Sam went to class to invest in your future. And, you worked at the campus library to help pay for that future. Back then, you loved to tease him that  _ you _ were the breadwinner between the two of you. You knew it bothered him. If it were up to Sam, you wouldn’t have lifted a finger once you got out of the hunting life. But he knew you weren’t the stay-at-home type of girl. You have always carried an equal load in this relationship. Always have, always will. 

Despite the life you were building for yourselves, you followed Sam back into the hunting life. As soon as Dean broke into your shared apartment in Palo Alto, you realized you could never truly escape your old life. You helped the brothers find John, and then grieve John. You’ve been in it ever since. 

As Sam lays atop you, he can’t remember the last time you were ever apart, or even fought. His life with you has been perfect from the start. As teenagers, it took him a while to admit his feelings for you. But once he did, you returned them in a heartbeat. You were always a constant in his life. You have always been there for him, and he for you. 

You both knew that the rough patch you hit when Dean was demon would pass. Trying times never last with you two. You always find your way back to the light, no matter what. 

And right on cue, things are back to how they should be. Dean is back and recovering nicely. You are back in Sam’s arms and he has all the time in the world to remind you  _ just  _ how temporary that rough patch was. 

Sam tugs your body down so you are completely pinned beneath him. You tighten your arms around his neck and look deep into his hazel eyes. The soft smile on your lips makes Sam feel like he is the only man in the world. But it is also giving him a strange sense of déjà vu. He tries to shake it, but something about it is putting him on edge. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” He whispers as he hovers over you. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to tell you that, to make you believe him. He also feels the need to ask for your confirmation.

You giggle softly at the intense shift in his eyes. “Of course, I know that.” You assure him with a smile. You lean up and give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. His lips have formed into a thin and earnest line as he awaited your reassurance. 

Your words seemed to have no effect on the worry in his eyes. You don’t know what caused the shift, but he went from teasing to serious in mere seconds. You’re starting to fear that you have done something to make him feel insecure. 

“Are you sure? Because…” Sam trails off as he listens to an anxious voice inside his head. There is a nagging part of Sam that is telling him that you really  _ don’t  _ know just how much he loves you. It feels as though he has never gotten the chance to make you believe it. Something feels off.

Sam then feels your hand cup his jaw. His eyes blink as they refocus onto you. 

“Where did you go?” You ask as you bring him out of his mind and back to reality. “What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is increasing with every syllable. 

“Nothing,” Sam lies as he shakes his head. None of this feels real. That voice in his head is telling him he shouldn’t be  _ this  _ happy. Waking up in your arms, is more than he deserves. Things are  _ too  _ perfect. But as you look up to him, in every sense of the word, Sam pushes those anxious thoughts away. He buries his uncertainty and devotes the rest of the morning to making you feel his love. 

Sam spends the next few hours working extra hard to make sure you feel good. He doesn’t give you a moment’s reprieve until you have cum countless times for him. He doesn’t take his hands off of you until you are all but whimpering for mercy. He makes sure you know that his only thoughts are of you. 

You hate the cliché. But for you, there is no other way to describe your morning together either than you were making love. You and Sam have never been an overly sentimental couple. You have your private loving moments but you are both hunters, realists. Your love for each other is grounding in reality, not fantasy. You take the good, the bad, and the ugly. That’s what makes your love true and lasting. 

You  _ know  _ he loves you.  But, you are never one to turn down an opportunity for him to show you just how deep his love for you flows. 

Sam takes his time and gives you everything. He stops himself from  _ taking  _ anything from you. That nagging voice returns to tell him he has taken enough from you. He doesn’t know where that voice is coming from. As far as he remembers, your relationship has always been an equal balance. But, he still feels the need to rectify a wrong he doesn’t remember committing. He is giving you the love, comfort, and promise you deserve. 

He puts it all into his touch. He pours his devotion over you, letting it settle around you like a thick syrup that will stick to you forever. You couldn’t wash his love away even if you tried. Sam is taking care of you for a change.  

You emerge from your shared bedroom a few hours later. Sam keeps one arm snaked around your waist as you both saunter through the bunker halls toward the kitchen. Sam can’t help but tease you about the dopey and blissed out smile on your face. You try to remove your smile, so Sam’s ego doesn’t inflate too much, but you both know the effort is made in vain. Sam knows the effect he has on you. 

You finally reach the kitchen and find Dean sitting at the table. He is spiking his coffee with something a little stronger than sweetener. 

“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” Sam criticizes his brother. 

You smack your boyfriend’s chest to shut him up. Dean has only  _ just  _ regained his human status. You don’t blame him for needing something to take the edge off for the next little while. You and Sam have never been demons, you can’t possibly imagine the guilt and shame Dean must be feeling. He became the monster he has spent his whole life hating. You can’t imagine that kind of burden. 

“It’s past noon,” Dean defends himself. “Do you two even have a clock beside that jungle gym you call a bed?” Dean sasses his brother. 

Your cheeks heat up at the thought of Dean overhearing you this morning, you weren’t exactly quiet. In the moment, you never care who hears you. But once you get out of bed, you get a little more gun shy. So, you decide to change the subject before Sam gives Dean an equally sassy, and revealing, answer. 

“I think what Sam  _ meant  _ to say was, would you like some pancakes to go with your Irish coffee?” You ask in as innocent of a voice as you can muster. 

Dean looks over at you and smirks at your transparent embarrassment. Sam’s arms have left your waist to wrap around your shoulders. He pulls you in tighter, not letting you get an inch too far away from him. Dean’s smirk morphs into a genuine smile as he sees the contented grin on Sam’s face. Sam is resting his chin on the top of your head and swaying your bodies to the music he hears in his head. 

Dean doesn’t know how you two can be together for as long as you have and  _ still  _ need that constant closeness as much as you do. Dean isn’t jealous of his little brother. Instead, he couldn’t be prouder. Dean loves that Sam is capable of letting love into his life. Dean only wishes he was capable of the same. But with everything he has been through lately, he can’t see himself opening up in that way anytime soon. So, for now, Dean is content simply knowing that kind of love is possible. 

“Are you sure you can pry yourself away from Sammy long enough to make me some breakfast?” Dean teases you with a raised brow. “Your boyfriend seems extra grabby this morning,” he adds. Even Dean can notice Sam is more clingy than usual. You aren’t complaining. But, you have a feeling that you are soon becoming that annoyingly affectionate couple everyone hates. 

“I think I’ll manage,” you retort and Dean scoffs in disbelief. You love seeing that teasing glint in Dean’s eyes return. His recovery may not be as far off as you all feared. “My puppy is just extra needy this morning,” you mock Sam to try and pull another smile out of Dean, and it works.

You hear Sam growl in your ear as a warning. You aren’t threatened, instead you start giggling. “Hey! I’m not holding onto you for  _ my  _ benefit,” Sam informs you. Sam lifts his head to look at his brother. “I’m holding her up because she has trouble standing on her right now. Watch what happens when I let her go,” Sam instructs Dean as he takes his strong arm’s off of you. 

The second Sam lets you go, your legs feel wobbly. You didn’t realize just how much you were resting your weight onto Sam. You stagger slightly but Sam catches you before you stumble over. 

“See,” Sam says with a triumphant smirk. He knows your legs always feel limbless after you two spend a morning like  _ that  _ together.

You bury you face in your hands as you stifle an embarrassed laugh. Sometimes you think Sam knows your body better than you do. You hadn’t even realized you haven’t recovered from your morning together, but Sam had. 

“How about  _ I  _ make the pancakes and you go sit with Dean,” Sam suggests as he pats your butt. 

You bite your lip as you pretend to consider his offer. The truth is, you would never turn down a chance to see your big tough hunter in an apron. “Okie dokie! Works for me,” you smile as Sam leads you to the table.

Once you are seated, Sam goes about his business getting breakfast ready. You lean over the table to steal the pot of coffee Dean is hogging. But, Dean is too quick. He snatches the pot away and narrows his eyes at you. 

“Nuh uh, sweetheart.” Dean admonishes you like you are a child. 

“Please,” you beg of him. “Just one sip before Sam sees!” The desperation in your whispered voice is clear. But, Dean won’t give in. 

“Nope,” Dean shakes his head. “I won’t have my little niece or nephew hopped up on caffeine just because mommy needed a morning pick me up.”

“Sam’s right. You really are a jerk,” you pout your defeat. 

“ _ You  _ are the one who got herself knocked up,” Dean raises his hands in defence. “And,  _ you _ are the one who gave me that scary book about all the things that can go wrong during pregnancy. So, don’t blame me for not wanting your kid to pop out with an extra head.”

“That wouldn’t happen-” you start to assure Dean but are cut off when you hear a large crash of dishes breaking behind you. 

You turn around and see Sam’s face has paled beyond recognition. He is staring at you with a look of shocked fear in his eyes. 

“Sam, what’s wrong?” You get up from your seat and rush to his side. Your legs are no longer jelly now that you are driven forward by adrenaline to make sure he is alright. You ignore the broken glass on the floor as you stand chest to chest with Sam. You cup his jaw in your palm and pull his gaze down toward yours. 

“Y-Your pregnant?” Sam stammers.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes,” you draw out the word. You see his eyes sparkle with joy and you can’t help but laugh. “Did you forget? You’ve known for almost two months. Why are you acting like this is new information?” You laugh because you think he is just playing a trick on you. 

“I-I must have… I don’t know… are you sure I knew?” Sam asks as he is still stuck in a state of shock. 

“Uh, yeah… I’m pretty sure. You all but hired a skywriter when we decided to tell Dean.” You smile at the memory of how proud Sam was to tell anyone and everyone he had gotten you pregnant. But, you also remember the way he didn’t sleep for the first month after you told him. He was nervous that the  _ wrong  _ people would find out you were having a Winchester’s baby. So, he definitely knew. 

“Right…” Sam trails off. Something is wrong. This doesn’t feel like his life. He remembers you telling him you are pregnant. But, it doesn’t feel like a memory. It feels like torn pages from an old and familiar fairy-tale his heart had internalized. It is as if he had fantasized about it so often it started to feel like truth. But, you are here. Apparently, this is real. Sam has to remind himself of that fact. 

Concern is causing the smile to fade from your lips. Your brows crease together as you try and read Sam’s busy mind. You look over your shoulder towards Dean for his help.  

Dean stands up from his spot at the table and walks over to you. “It’s alright Sammy. You’re probably just stressed out of your mind. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately,” Dean looks to the floor as guilt clouds his eyes. “Why don’t you two go out for breakfast? I’ll clean up here and you can bring me back a short stack or something.”

“You don’t want to come?” you ask the eldest Winchester. 

“I’m not quite ready to be out in the real world just yet, princess. Soon though,” he assures you as he kisses your forehead. “Just keep this one away from the caffeine!” Dean instructs his brother with a smile. 

You roll your eyes at Dean as you take Sam’s hand in yours to urge him forward. Sam lifts you up to make sure your bare feet don’t get hurt on the broken glass around you. 

Time plays tricks on Sam.  It is as if you exit the bunker’s kitchen and walk straight into a diner. He doesn’t remember driving here or even ordering. The next thing he knows, he has a mouth full of watermelon and a spoon full of oatmeal. 

“Sam?” You call out to him. “Did you hear me?”

“Uh… sorry. What did you say?” Sam shakes his head as he tries to catch up with reality. 

“I said, we have that doctor appointment later in the week. We should talk about whether we want to know the sex of our baby.”

“Our  _ what _ ?” Sam’s eyes widen as he once again looks like you are giving him new information. 

“Sam, this isn’t funny. You’re scaring me.” You put down your fork and reach across the table to take his hand. “A-Are you… having second thoughts?” You can’t help but ask. Your life with Sam has been perfect, too perfect. The shoe was bound to drop eventually. What if this is it?

Sam can hear a familiar hint of rejection and pain in your voice. His eyes shoot up to meet yours. He can see you are trying to bury the fear in your eyes for his sake. He hates when you do that. He hates when you hide your pain just to make him happy.

“Because if you are,” you continue, “I can-”

“No!” Sam cuts you off with an adamant response. “Never, I would never have seconds thought about you or…  _ our  _ baby,” Sam says as he catches up to the conversation. Talking about this mystery baby is an odd thing for Sam to say out loud. It doesn’t feel familiar but it feels right. 

“Okay, but you  _ can  _ tell me if you are. Chances are, I am ten times more scared of this than you are. I am probably so much closer to a fear-induced mental break down than you are. So, nothing you say can surprise me.” You decide to open up to Sam about your own concerns. You want him to know he’s not alone in his fear. 

“What are you scared of?” Sam asks with determination in his voice. He has every intention of finding your fears, and then salting and burning them so they stay gone forever.

“You,” you respond honestly. You see Sam’s face fall and you realize you need to clarify. “I don’t mean it like  _ that _ .” Your hand squeezes his a little tighter. “Look, I know we talked about me stepping back from the hunting life from now on. I also know you said that you won’t leave Dean to hunt on his own. But, the idea of sitting at home with the little nugget, not being able to protect you while you’re off hunting god knows what… I don’t know what we would do if something happened to you. I don’t know  _ I  _ would do without you. I can’t do this on my own. It’s always been you. You will be an  _ amazing  _ father, I don’t doubt that for a minute. But,  _ I _ have no idea what I am doing. Our baby will need  _ you  _ to keep us all on track. But what if one day you never come home to us? I…I would-”

“You would do  _ nothing _ ,” Sam interrupts you with a stern demand in his voice. He knows what you were going to say. He can see those self-sacrificing wheels turning in your mind. He wants to stop them in their tracks. You have always been quick to jump on the nearest grenade for Sam. It’s a quality Sam both admires and fears about you. But he would never let you give your life for his. 

“But I-” you start to argue. 

“But,  _ nothing _ . I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost you because you were cleaning up a mess I made for myself,” Sam lies. That nagging voice in his head has returned. He doesn’t know why, but he can vividly invasion how empty his life would be without you. But he tries his best to ignore that creeping darkness. If he looks into that abyss, he doesn’t know if he will ever find his way out. “Listen, I’ll talk to Dean. After everything he just went through… who knows? Maybe he’ll be ready to hang up his cape. Maybe we can  _ all  _ get out. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Sam traces circles on the back of your hand. 

He reassures you with a smile and all your fears melt away. Sam leans across the table to kiss your maple syrup coated lips. When he pulls away, he is suddenly back at the bunker. He is sitting alone in the library with a book of baby names in his lap. He knows it is a baby book, but the letters appear unreadable. 

Confusion laces Sam’s features as he tries to figure out how he got here. But he is soon distracted when you come barreling into the room wearing a pair of tight running shorts. Sam had bought them for you as a joke because they have a large ‘S’ on the butt due to the brand’s name. He thought he could get you into them when you two were alone together. But, you ended up wearing them all the time. You said they were comfortable and you liked showing off who owns your ass, your words not his.

Sam can’t help but smile at the little extra bounce in your step every time you wear them. You love the way Sam leers at you when you wear these short. Your entrance distracts Sam from his own confusion. 

“Isn’t it a little cold out to be wearing shorts?” Sam asks with a smirk as he comments on your unseasonal attire.

“Shut up, I want to wear these while I still can. In a couple weeks, I am going to balloon up thanks to you and your spawn. So, I’m going to get as much wear out of my cute clothes while I still can. It won’t be long before I am stuck wearing tragic stretchy pants that can fit a watermelon down the front.”

“But, I like watermelons,” Sam says and he opens his arms for you to come sit on his lap.

“I know you do,” you smirk as you take his offered seat and kiss his cheek.

Sam’s lips find their way to your neck and start sucking lazy marks into your skin. He smiles against you when you moan and tilt your head back for him. In this stage of your pregnancy, your hormones make you easily susceptible to Sam’s loving touch. But you stop yourself from giving in right now. You can feel yourself on the verge of surrender but that’s not why you came in here. 

You put your hands in his hair and give it a small tug. He groans as you pull his mouth off of your bare shoulder. You get up off his lap and try pulling him up with you.

“Get up, lazy bones!” You order him. “We have to go,” you say with reluctance as you pull on his wrist. 

“Where are we going?” Sam groans with annoyance as he misses you in his arms.

“We have to go for our daily run. We’ve missed the past couple days because of the whole  _ Dean  _ situation, but we need to get back on track,” you inform him. 

You’d much rather get your exercise done in Sam’s bed. But, your doctor gave you a moderate, yet important, workout schedule to stick to. It is only for the first few months of your pregnancy. After that, you will have to take it easy. But until then, you aren’t taking any chances with your health. 

Part of this regimen includes a light run every day. You and Sam usually go for your runs in the mornings, but you forgot to today, for obvious reasons. 

“ _ Run _ ?” Sam gets out of his chair and looks at you with concern. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t think we should-”

“Come on,” you roll your eyes at him. “Or, are you scared I may finally beat you when we race back home?” You smirk at him. You and Sam can’t help but get a little competitive when you go for your runs. He never lets you win. But you’re at least starting to catch up.

“No… it’s just, I don’t think running is such a good idea with the baby  _ and  _ your heart condition. You never could run before. I don’t think you should start now. It’s too dangerous.” 

“What are you talking about?” It is your turn to look confused. “What  _ heart condition _ ?” 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Sam chides the fact you are still trying to minimize your health issues. 

“Sam, I’ve  _ never  _ had a heart condition. The doctor is the one who said running will help keep my body healthy for the baby,” you remind him. “What is going on with you today?”

Sam takes in your words. He now realizes that this is too good to be true. Everything about today is too good to be true. 

Waking up with you in his arms. 

Getting Dean back to normal so soon after his experience as a demon. 

You are having his baby. 

Everyone is finally leaving the hunting life so Sam can raise a proper family with you. 

You aren’t sick.

This can’t be real. Sam doesn’t feel like he deserves these things. His life shouldn’t be this easy, this perfect. 

In this moment, Sam sees his reality, or lack thereof. That nagging voice in the back of his mind comes to the forefront and eradicates his contentment. Sam’s confusion and doubt turn to stone as they solidify into dread.

He looks around and sees the library tables are not scratched. The varnish on the floor is not scuffed. And, the old paint is not peeling off of the walls. Everything is squeaky clean and perfect. The bunker does not feel lived in. But, at the same time, Sam has never felt more at home. 

Sam is just now noticing that the old lore books that decorated the library have been replaced. The dusty old books are now colourful pop up books about clowns. A little slice of nightmare embedded in this perfect dream.

But the thing that truly made Sam accept his unreality, was when he let himself look into your eyes. Your pupils dilate just for him. Sam sees a lifetime of happiness and love behind your eyes. He sees no trace of pain, rejection, or unanswered yearning. He sees only peace. And that’s how he knows this isn’t real. He finally lets himself admit that this isn’t you, none of this is real.

He could explain away the lapses in time, the missing moments, and strange décor. But Sam cannot avoid the truth that the  _ real  _ version of you, the one he knows and loves, does not have that happy gleam in her eyes. You always looked at Sam with love, but never true happiness. He was never able to give you that kind of well-rounded peace. That’s how Sam knows this isn’t real. 

Sam pulls away from you and runs his hand down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to remember  _ his  _ reality. But, everything is foggy. The only thing he is certain of is that he doesn’t deserve this beautiful lie. This has to be a dream.

“Sam,” you reach for him but he pulls away. He holds your wrists to stop you from coming any closer. He doesn’t want you trying to comfort him. He can’t let you lull him back into the blissful ignorance he doesn’t deserve.

“Stop, you’re not real.” Sam says as he looks down at you. The pleading in his eyes tells you that he wants you to contradict him. He wants you to prove him wrong. He wants you to tell him he’s crazy. He wants this to be real, he needs it to be. He needs you.

“But, I could be.” You can’t tell him what he wants to hear. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers. There is a lot he needs to apologize for, but he doesn’t know where to start. He can’t figure out which memories are real and which are not. The only thing he can offer you is a blanket apology to keep you warm until his mind catches up to the specifics. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you plead with him. “Just stay with me. Isn’t it  _ finally  _ our turn to truly be together?” You ask him with that familiar pain in your voice. It is a pain Sam remembers all too well, he knows  _ that  _ is real. 

Sam squeezes his eyes shut once tears start to sting his eyes. “You don’t know how much I wish this was real. But I can’t just-” Sam starts to say but is cut off when he hears the distant sound of a phone ringing. It doesn’t sound like it is coming from this realm. “It’s not up to me,” his voice breaks as realization hits him.

He grips your wrists a little tighter as he feels this beautiful world he created get lighter. He can feel it slipping away. He can feel  _ you  _ slipping away. He thinks that if he holds you close enough, he’ll get to stay. You will ground him here. You will keep him safe from his reality.

“Please don’t wake up, Sammy!” The desperation in your voice causes Sam’s heart to clench with dread. 

Sam looks around. You both are no longer in the library. You are in your shared bedroom. You are trying to pull him onto the bed beside you. Your stomach is a little larger than it was a moment ago. You are showing now. Your belly is getting rounder with every passing minute. Sam can his baby growing inside you. He can see the baby’s little foot kick against your flesh as the ringing phone gets louder.

“Please, don’t leave us.” You plead with him as you place his hand on your lower stomach. You intertwine your finger so you can feel your family grow together. “It is finally  _ our  _ turn. We can have it all.” You use your other hand to cup his cheek and force him to look you in the eye. “We can be together. We can have a family. We can finally be happy.” 

Your words cut through Sam as you offer him the world. His subconscious is torturing him with everything he’s ever wanted. But the ringing is only getting louder, you are becoming blurry. Your life together is falling away. 

“I love you,” you breathe out. “Please, stay.” A single thick tear spills over the rim of your left eye. Sam can now see the pain and rejection he knew he was missing. He’d give anything to make it go away. 

Sam lunges forward and takes your cheeks into his large palms. He can no longer stop his own tears from rolling down toward his quivering chin. He looks you dead in the eyes so you understand his next words loud and clear. He needs you to focus only on him, above the ever-increasing ringing. He needs you to hear him say this. He needs you to believe it. “I-”

Before Sam can tell you just how much he loves you, he jolts awake. The ringing phone stops. He shouts out your name as his eyes fly open. He searches for you. But, you are nowhere around. You are not curled up in his arms like you were last time. Sam realizes he his sitting in the front seat of Baby, alone. He looks out the window and realizes he is still in the parking lot of the bar he and Crowley had been drinking at. 

You are still gone, and it is still his fault. 

Sam screws his eyes shut as he beats his palm against the steering wheel. He unleashes every ounce of anger onto the wheel as if it is at fault and not him. He hollers his pain into the empty car and let’s his reality wash back over him. 

By the time Sam calms down, he realizes he has broken the skin on his knuckles, and probably the bone too. But, he doesn’t feel it. No pain he inflicts on his body can override the pain in his tattered heart.

Sam doesn’t check his phone; the cursed device doesn’t deserve his attention. It’s ringing took you away from him. Besides, he knows it was Dean calling. His brother probably got worried when Sam didn’t come home after a few hours and found that Baby was missing too. Sam will call his brother back, but not right now. After. 

Sam clears the unshed tears from his eyes to rectify his blurred vision. Once he can see straight, Sam puts Baby into drive. 

* * *

It took Sam a few days to find what he was looking for. He hasn’t called Dean back in the entire time he spent searching. He knew Dean would talk him out of it. 

Sam pulls up to an abandoned warehouse that is nestled outside of a small Midwestern town. He doesn’t get out of the car just yet. He can feel his destiny calling him inside the building. But, there is one more thing he has to do. He calls his brother.

“Sam! Where the hell have you been? I told you to take a  _ walk  _ not go missing for days on end without so much as answering your goddamn phone!” Dean berates his brother before Sam can even get a word in. 

“I’m fine, Dean.” It’s not a lie. Sam hasn’t felt this at peace in years.

“You’re  _ fine _ ?” Dean scoffs. “I’m so glad  _ you  _ are fine! Meanwhile, I have been sitting here with my thumb up my ass not knowing what the hell happened to you! I had no way to find you or track you because  _ someone  _ turned off your phone!” Dean doesn’t care if he is yelling. 

“Relax, Dean. Everything is going to work out. I’m going home,” Sam assures his brother.

“Great!” Dean voice is laced with sarcasm. “When will you,  _ and my car _ , be getting back here?”

“No, Dean. I’m not coming back to the bunker. I’m going  _ home _ . I’m going back to her.”

“Sammy, what do you mean?” Dean asks in an eerily calm voice. Dean already knows the answer Sam will give, but he doesn’t want to hear the confirmation. 

“I’ve always been selfish with her. Our entire lives I… I always took what I didn’t deserve from her. Why should that change just because she’s gone? I’ve decided to be selfish one last time.”

“You can’t bring her back,” Dean sighs in defeat. “Cas made sure of that when he burned her body. If there really was a way to bring her back, Crowley would have done it already. Sam, it’s not-”

“I’m not bringing her back, Dean. I’m going to her,” Sam states.

Sam can hear his brother starting to pace with anxious steps. “Really, Sam? After all we’ve been through, after all we’ve fought for? After all  _ she  _ did for you? You don’t get to self-checkout. Y/N sold her soul to make sure you’d live. You are not honestly talking about killing yourself, are you?”

Sam remains silent which is answer enough. 

“Sam, we don’t even know  _ where  _ she is! I know you don’t want to hear this, but she may not be in heaven. She did some horrible things as a demon.” Dean tells his brother the harsh truth. 

“That wasn’t her!” Sam shouts in your defense. “That is who I forced her to become.” Sam’s anger settles back into desolation. 

“You didn’t hold a gun to her head and demand that she sell her soul for you.” Dean tries to reason with his brother, despite him knowing it is a futile effort.

“I may as well have,” Sam admits.

“She knew what she was doing. She made her choice.”

“And, I’ve made mine. Look, I didn’t call for your permission. I just needed you to know that I forgive you, Dean. I don’t know what you two did together as demons and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. It never really did. I hope soon you’ll be able to forgive yourself.”

“Sammy, don’t-”

“Goodbye, Dean. I love you.” Sam and his brother never tell each other with words how much they love one another. But, they should. Sam made that same mistake with you and you died not knowing how much you meant to him. He doesn’t want Dean to second guess Sam’s love for him once he’s gone. 

Sam hangs up on Dean as his brother screams his name through the receiver. Sam leaves his cell phone on so Dean will be able to track his phone and find Baby and find his body. 

Sam gets out of the car and walks toward the warehouse. Hope and anticipation imbues his every step. Sam enters the seemingly empty building. He hears metal clanging and light footsteps creaking in the distance. 

“You can cut the crap,” Sam calls out as he makes his way through the halls. “I know what you are. I know what you do. I think we can help each other.” Sam yells out into the open air.

Sam rounds the corner and walks into a large open room. Suddenly, a tall and heavily tattooed man comes out of the shadows. The man’s unnaturally bright blue eyes tell Sam he has found the right creature. 

The Djinn stares at Sam with curiosity but doesn’t say a word. He can smell Winchester blood flow through Sam’s veins. The creature assumes this is a trick. A Winchester would never give themselves over to a monster willingly. But then, the Djinn sees the yearning in Sam’s eyes. He is not here to fight, he is not here for bloodshed. Sam is here for release.

Every monster far and wide has an unsatisfied sweet tooth for Winchester blood. And, this Djinn is no different. He has wanted a taste of the infamous bloodline for years. And now, Sam is offering himself up on a silver platter. This Djinn is not about to turn down a free delicacy.

The Djinn nods his understanding of Sam’s terms. He knows better than to cross a Winchester. The creature will give Sam his release, in return for his livelihood. The Djinn stalks up to Sam with a triumphant smile. Sam doesn’t even flinch as the Djinn raises his hand and causes a blue mist to invade every sense of Sam’s being. His world goes black seconds later. 

* * *

Sam opens his eyes and finds himself back at the bunker. He is standing in the library when he hears a familiar laugh echoing from down the hall. He follows it like it is his personal siren call. 

Sam looks in his room but finds it empty. He searches room after room but finds no trace of you. He sees a light shining from the room at the end of the hall. He then hears another bout of laughter followed by an excitable squeal coming from within. A relieved smile pulls at Sam’s lips as he runs forward and pushes open the door.

The second he enters the room, his eyes are drawn to you. Your smile widens beyond compare when you see him. Sam has no choice but to return it. Sam’s gaze trails down to where your stomach is just as swollen and full as it was when he left his previous dream. 

The Djinn picked up Sam’s fantasy-life right where it left off. Sam watches you bear his little family in your waddling frame and a weight lifts off his chest. He lets a homey sense of serenity wash over him. It is a kind of peace he has never felt before. It is true, pure, and uninterrupted. 

“There you are! Where the hell have you been? I need back up,” you feign seriousness. You squeal with laughter again as you run up to Sam. You duck behind his towering frame. You use Sam as a human shield against the eldest Winchester brother. 

The boys had finished painting your baby’s nursery a few days ago. Once the fumes dissipated, it was your job to start decorating. However, Dean came in and interrupted your work. You were trying to sort through the mountain of stuffed animals you had bought. Dean teased you when you looked at him with a guilty smile and informed him you had forgotten you bought this many toys. From there, it turned into an all-out war between you and Dean. You two threw stuffed animals at each other and dodged them like they were grenades. 

For a couple of former seasoned hunters, you were all surprised how easy it was to slip into the apple pie life. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it feels like magic. 

So, Sam had walked right into a fuzzy war zone. Sam can’t help but laugh as you cower behind him as if the stuffed bunny in Dean’s hand would actually wound you. Over the years, Sam has seen you take countless beatings on the job, and even a stray bullet to the leg. So, it is funny watching you hide from plush. 

“No fair!” Dean calls out from across the small room. He is using the half-assembled crib as a barricade. “You don’t get to use the Sasquatch as shield! Two against one… that’s not fair!” Dean bellows as if this is a real battle with real rules. 

“Technically, it is  _ three  _ against one!” You holler back at the lone army of one as you point to your large belly. “You should know by now, Dean. Pregnant ladies can play as dirty as we want and you can’t say shit about it!” You stick your tongue out at him to prove your point. 

Dean doesn’t appreciate your smack talk. So, he raises his arm and hurls the stuffed bunny at you. You squeal again and duck back behind Sam. The bunny hits Sam in the head but he doesn’t even flinch. He simply gives his brother a look of unadulterated sass and annoyance. But, Dean can see through it. Dean can see his little brother is all but beaming with joy on the inside. 

“You two are absolute children,” Sam rolls his eyes to try and hide his bliss. “You do know that soon there will be an  _ actual  _ baby here for us to try and manage, right? I don’t need three children to chase after.” Sam pretends to be the mature one. But, everyone knows he’s full of shit. 

“Dean started it,” you decide to make yourself as immature as possible just to annoy Sam. 

“Nuh uh,” Dean follows your lead. “No way, princess. This was all you!” 

You narrow your eyes at Dean and bend over to pick up the stuffed bunny that fell at Sam’s feet. Your intention is to throw it back at Dean, but Sam stops you. Sam lifts you into his arms with the same ease as ever, despite the extra baby weight. He carries his feisty warrior out of the room. 

“That’s right! Run away, little girl. We all know you need your big tough baby daddy to bail you out and save your sorry ass!” Dean playfully mocks you both as you leave the room in giggles. He loves teasing you like this. You are the little sister he’d never admit to wanting.  

“This isn’t over, Jerk!” You shout to Dean over Sam’s shoulder as he carries you to the safety of your shared bedroom. 

“Yes, it is.” Sam tries to calm down your competitive side. “You won the battle  _ and  _ the war. Now, just enjoy the victory.” Sam smiles at you and you settle down in his arms. 

Sam walks with a smile on his face. He loves seeing you and Dean fight like siblings. Watching you and Dean laugh together, like you used to when you were kids, only adds to the illusion of paradise. The two most important people in Sam life are a true family again. 

You rest your head on Sam’s shoulder as he carries you the rest of the way. You both know you can walk, but you are both more content with you staying in his arms.

Sam brings you to your room and sits you on the end of the bed. “He’s going to spoil our kid rotten. He’s going to be that  _ fun  _ uncle who fills the kid up with sugar right before bedtime. Then, he’ll hand the kid off to  _ us  _ so we have deal with the consequences and he gets away clean. Dean Winchester will be the reason I won’t get a good night’s sleep for the next five years of my life!” you complain as you flop onto your back. 

The genuine annoyance and impending dread in your voice makes Sam laugh. “Isn’t that what you signed up for when you agreed to have a kid with me? Uncle Dean comes with the deal.”

You scrunch up your face in feigned thoughtfulness. “I don’t remember ‘agreeing’ to have your baby. The way I remember it, you thought it would be  _ fun  _ to try out those watermelon flavoured condoms Dean got you for your birthday. You know, the ones that are more for novelty than for actual protection.” You remind Sam of how you ended up in this position. 

You always thought you’d have a family with Sam someday. But, those crappy condoms just sped your plans along ahead of schedule. The pregnancy was an accident. A happy accident, but still an accident. You two never did things the way you were supposed to, why should having a kid be any different?

Sam laughs at that memory. He knows the memory was implanted in his mind by the Djinn to embellish his fantasy. But this time, knowing it is fake doesn’t make it any less perfect. This is his life now. 

“Alright, maybe it wasn’t an  _ agreement  _ but you sure as hell knew what you were getting into when you chose to be with me. You were just asking for trouble,” Sam teases you as he nudges you back so you’re lying on your side of the bed. 

“Don’t I know it,” you roll your eyes. “ _ You _ , Mr. Sam Winchester, will be the death of me.” 

You meant it as a joke but Sam’s face hardens as he gets into the bed beside you. “Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. “I won’t… I’ll never…”

“Hey!” You cup his cheek and force him to look at you. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know what you meant,” Sam cuts you off. “But, I need you to know that there is nothing I will ever put above you or our family.” Sam puts his hand on your belly. He can feel a little foot kick at its father. “I love you.” Sam is finally able to say the words. There is no interruptions or impending doom. There is only you and him. There is only truth.

The light he sees in your eyes outshines his knowledge that this isn’t real. You are looking at him now with all of the love he never let you fully express in your true lifetime. He wonders how you kept it all contained over the years. It is now overflowing and he hates himself for ever making you stifle that pureness and light. 

Sam knows this is a Djinn induced fantasy. He knows he will be dead in a matter of days. But to him, it will feel like years. Sam will get back the years he wasted without you. He gets to reset his life and spend the rest of his days by your side, where he should have been all along. Sam gets a do over, you both do. It is finally your turn. 

Sam knows he will die. But he will die under the illusion that he lived his life in your arms. And, that is more than he could ever want or deserve. 

You were willing to sacrifice your soul for Sam’s life. Now, Sam is willing to sacrifice his life to finally connect your souls.

  
  



End file.
